#21

I never was, am always to be,
No one ever saw me, nor ever will,
And yet I am the confidence of all
To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball.
What am I?

#22

I'm light as a feather, yet the strongest man can't hold me for much more than a minute. What am I?

#23

I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air. What am I?

#24

Pronounced as one letter,
And written with three,
Two letters there are,
And two only in me.
I'm double, I'm single,
I'm black, blue, and gray,
I'm read from both ends,
And the same either way.
What am I?

#25

At night they come without being fetched, and by day they are lost without being stolen. What are they?

#26

I'm where yesterday follows today, and tomorrow's in the middle. What am I?

#27

From the beginning of eternity
To the end of time and space
To the beginning of every end
And the end of every place.
What am I?

#28

In a marble hall white as milk
Lined with skin as soft as silk
Within a fountain crystal-clear
A golden apple doth appear.
No doors there are to this stronghold,
Yet thieves break in to steal its gold.

-- Mother Goose

#29

It is said among my people that some things are improved by death. Tell me, what stinks while living but in death smells good?

#30

All about, but cannot be seen,
Can be captured, cannot be held,
No throat, but can be heard.
What is it?