I have a neck, but no head. I have two arms, but no hands. What am I?
You measure my life in hours and I serve you by expiring. I’m quick when I’m thin and slow when I’m fat. The wind is my enemy. What am I?
What disappears as soon as you say its name?
I have keys, but no locks and space, and no rooms. You can enter, but you can’t go outside. What am I?
How many letters are in the alphabet?
What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?