Answer:
I move without wings, Between silken string, I leave as you find, My substance behind.
What is lighter than what it is made of?
I bubble and laugh and spit water in your face. I am no lady, and I don't wear lace.
What does man love more than life, fear more than death or mortal strife. What the poor have, the rich require, and what contented men desire. What the miser spends, and the spendthrift saves. And all men carry to their graves.
I open wide and tight I shut, Sharp am I and paper-cut fingers too, so do take care, I'm good and bad, so best beware.
What do people want the least on their hands?