Answer:
A man who was outside in the rain without an umbrella or hat didn’t get a single hair on his head wet. Why?
Three little letters, a paradox to some. The worse that it is, the better it becomes.
When there is fire in me then I am still cold. When I own your true love’s face then you will not see me. To all things I give no more than I am given. In time I may have all things, and yet I can keep nothing.
You can always see it, but it's too far away to touch. Mountains rest on it, and at sea it surrounds you. What is it?
High born, my touch is gentle. Purest white is my lace. Silence is my kingdom. Green is the color of my death.
I have two eyes in the front and a lot of eyes on my tail