Answer:
I work when I play and play when I work.
I am a box that holds keys without locks, yet they can unlock your soul.
I heard of a wonder, of words moth-eaten. That is a strange thing, I thought, weird. That a man's song be swallowed by a worm. His blinded sentences, his bedside stand-by rustled in the night - and the robber-guest. Not one wit the wiser. For the words he had mumbled.
What gets wet while drying?
The sharp slim blade, that cuts the wind. What is it?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?