Answer:
Each morning I appear to lie at your feet, all day I follow no matter how fast you run. Yet I nearly perish in the midday sun.
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own. What are they?
Do what he says and you'll be fine, don't and you lose the game.
What is put on a table, cut, but never eaten?
What can touch someone once and last them a life time?
Keep doing me to avoid lens dryness