Riddle: What does man love more than life, Fear more than death or mortal strife, What the poor have, the rich require, And what contented men desire, What misers spend, and spendthrifts save, And all men carry to the grave?
Riddle: My host thinks I'm an irritation, a bother, a pain. But he can't evict me, so here I will remain. Then one day I'm taken and ranked among my peers. Can you guess just what I am? Then you might call me dear.
Riddle: Old Mother Twitchett had but one eye, and a long tail which she let fly; and every time she went through a gap, a bit of her tail she left in a trap. What is she?