Answer:
What measures out time. Until in time all is smashed to it?
My coat keeps me safe From damage thatβs near. I cause you happiness, sadness, Anticipation and fear. On the outside, I am put under judgment of price. But my insides have far more value That not even MONEY can suffice.
Big as a biscuit, deep as a cup, but even a river canβt fill it up. What is it?
What goes further the slower it goes?
What is the thing which, once poured out, cannot be gathered again?
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?