I am a word. Six letters I contain. Take away one. And twelve is what remains. What am I?
I am black when you buy me, red when you use me. When I turn white, you know it’s time to throw me away. What am I?
You throw me out when you use me and take me in when you are done. What am I?
I run up and down the stairs without moving. What am I?
I cannot be bought, I cannot be sold, even though, sometimes, I’m made of gold. What am I?
You wear me every day but you never put me on. I will change colors if you leave me out in the sun too long. What am I?
The faster you run, the harder it is for you to catch me. What am I?
I am easy to get into, but hard to get out of. What am I?
I build bridges of silver and crowns of gold. What am I?
I am made of wood, but I cannot be sawed. What am I?
I run around the house, but I never move. What am I?
I’m tall when I’m young, but I’m short when I’m old. What am I?
You are my brother, but I am not your brother. Who am I?
I have three feet, but I cannot walk. What am I?
The dirtier I am, the whiter I get. You leave a mark on me when you stand, and I’ll leave a mark on you when you sit. What am I?
The one who buys me doesn’t need me, the one who makes me doesn’t want me, and the one who uses me can’t appreciate me. What am I?
When you do not know me, I am something. When you come to know me, I become nothing. What am I?
I have no wallet but, I pay my own way. I travel the world, but in the corner I stay. What am I?
The more I dry, the wetter I become. What am I?
I am an ancient invention (still in use in some parts of the world) that allows a person to see through a wall. What am I?