Walk on the living, they don’t even mumble, Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble. What are they?

Walk on the living, they don’t even mumble, Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble. What are they?

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I am the hole in the night, the ever watchful eye. I return in a cycle, to enlighten the sky.

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If eleven plus two equals one, what is nine plus five equal to?

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They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own.

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You can tumble in it, roll in it, burn it, animal eat it. Used to cover floors, still used beyond stall doors. Freshens whatever it is placed on. Absorbs whatever is poured into it.

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What's black when you get it, red when you use it, and white when you're all through with it?

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Riddle of the Day

Nov 21, 2024

Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.

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