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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jeajea" data-source="post: 2562922" data-attributes="member: 37238">It can be said:To be gold is to be good;To be stone is to be nothing;To be glass is to be fragile;To be cold is to be cruel.Unmetaphored, What am I?(Submitted by Gene)---You can see nothing elseWhen you look in my face,I will look you in the eyeAnd I will never lie.What am I?(Submitted by Bhryn)---I have feathers white as snow,There is nothing I don't know.All you have to do is ask me,And I will tell you so!Who am I?(Submitted by Lyrana)---((Here after, riddles have answers. To see the answers, scroll down to the relevant post, or highlight the blank bit after that "what am I?". For IC purposes, it's magical invisible ink that appears when you ask it to. ))Clear as crystal, sapphire blue,Green or brown or other hue,Soft as silk, hard as stone,Many are the forms it's known.Too much is bad, too little, worse:What is the answer to this verse?Water (Submitted by Kat, answered by Bhryn)---I am the black child of a white father; I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, And at once my birth I am dissolved into air What am I?Smoke (Submitted by Jeajea, answered by Kat)---Old mother twitchett has but one eye, And a long tail which she can let fly; And every time she goes over a gap, She leaves a bit of her tail in a trapWhat is she?Needle and Thread (Submitted by Jeajea, answered by Kat)---'Twas in heaven pronounced, and 'twas muttered in hell,An echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;On the confines of Oerth 'twas permitted to rest,And in the depths of the ocean its presence confessed;'Twill be found in the sphere when 'tis riven asunder,Be seen in the lightning and heard in the thunder.'Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath,Attends him at birth, and awaits him in death,Presides o'er his happiness, honour, and health,Is the prop of his house, and the end of his wealth.In the heaps of the miser 'tis hoarded with care,But is sure to be lost on the prodigal heir.It begins every hope, every wish it must bound,With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is crowned.Without it the soldier, the seaman may roam,But woe to the wretch who expels it from home!In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found,Nor e'en in the whirlwind of passion be drowned.'Twill not soften the heart; but though deaf be the ear,It will make it acutely and instantly hear.Yet in shade let it rest, like a delicate flower,Ah...breathe on it softly, - it dies in an hour.What is it?The letter 'H' (Submitted by Jeajea, answered by Bhryn)---Ten gold go to the first to answer each correctly.~Jeajea, Self-Proclaimed RiddleMaster</blockquote>

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