61. This is as light as a feather, yet no man can hold it for long.
What am I?
62. Always old, but sometimes new, never sad, but sometimes blue, never empty, but sometimes full, never pushes, but always pulls.
What am I?
63. I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space. I am essential to creation, and I surround every place.
What am I?
64. With thirty men and ladies two. Standing around with nothing to do, dressed in formal, black and white. Yet when they move it begins a fight.
What am I?
65. Often held but never touched, always wet but never rusts, often bites but seldom bit, to use me well you must have wit.
What am I?
66. I make a loud noise when changing my jacket and become larger but weigh less.
What am I?
67. If you drop me I'll probably crack, but give me a smile and I'll always smile back.
What am I?
68. I have keys that open no locks, I have space, but there is no room, You can enter, but you can't go in.
What am I?
69. You heard me before, and you'll hear me again. Then I will die, until you call me again.
What am I?
70. I go up, but at the same time go down. Up towards the sky, and down towards the ground. I?m the present tense and the past tense too, why don?t you come for a ride, just me and you.
What am I?
71. I have two arms, but fingers none. I have two feet, but cannot run. I carry well, but I have found I carry best with my feet OFF the ground.
What am I?
72. It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, ends life and kills laughter.
What is it?
73. Weight in my belly, trees on my back, nails in my ribs, feet I do lack.
What am I?
74. I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played.
What am I?
75. Tear one off and scratch my head, what once was red is now black instead.
What am I?