Answer:
Squeeze me and I cry tears as red as flesh, but my heart is made of stone. What am I?
Adored by few, feared and hated by many. Mistress of the entire universal reason, master in the art of numbers. Some may have solved many of my mysteries, but there are still many of them to find. What am I?
I get paid when I drive away my customers. What am I?
What kind of tree can you carry in your hand?
What has no beginning, end, or middle?
Bury deep, Pile on stones, My mind will always Dig up them bones