You throw away the outside and cook the inside. Then you eat the outside and throw away the inside. What did you eat?
2 answers:
Chicken bone
an ear of corn
100
What goes up and down the stairs without moving?
a rag
100
Throw it off the highest building, and I'll not break. But put me in the ocean, and I will. What am I?
a tissue
100
I am mother and father, but never birth or nurse. I'm rarely still, but I never wander. What am I?
a tree
100
I'm where yesterday follows today, and tomorrow's in the middle. What am I?
a dictionary
200
What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?
a towel
200
What can you catch but not throw?
a cold
200
What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?
a river
200
I went into the woods and got it. I sat down to seek it. I brought it home with me because I couldn't find it. What is it?
a splinter
200
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?
The letter "e"
300
What's black and white and red all over?
An embarrassed skunk.
A zebra painted red.
A sunburned penguin.
A newspaper.
300
Give me food, and I will live; give me water, and I will die. What am I?
Fire
300
No sooner spoken than broken. What is it?
Silence.
A secret.
300
I am weightless, but you can see me. Put me in a bucket, and I'll make it lighter. What am I?
a hole
300
At night they come without being fetched, and by day they are lost without being stolen. What are they?
stars or dreams
400
What goes around the world but stays in a corner?
a stamp
400
The man who invented it doesn't want it. The man who bought it doesn't need it. The man who needs it doesn't know it. What is it?
a coffin
400
You use a knife to slice my head and weep beside me when I am dead. What am I?
An onion
400
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?
tomorrow (we can't see the future)
400
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?
smoke
500
I have holes in my top and bottom, my left and right, and in the middle. But I still hold water. What am I?
a sponge
500
I run over fields and woods all day. Under the bed at night I sit not alone. My tongue hangs out, up and to the rear, awaiting to be filled in the morning. What am I?
A shoe.
500
I'm the part of the bird that's not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?
a shadow
500
I'm light as a feather, yet the strongest man can't hold me for much more than a minute. What am I?
breath
500
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?