I’m the son of water but when i return to water, i die. Who am i?
The more there is the less you see. What is it?
What goes through towns and over hills but never moves?
What do you throw out when you want to use it, but take in when you don’t want to use it?
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it, but almost nobody takes it. What is it?
What disappears the moment you say its name?