No matter how little or how much you use me, you change me every month. What am I?
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The dirtier I am, the whiter I get, Leave a mark on me when you stand, I'll leave a mark on you when you sit. What am I?
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Thirty men with ladies, two. Standing around with nothing to do, dressed in formal, black and white. Yet when they move it begins a fight. What is It?
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I have a little house in which I live all alone. My house has no doors or windows, and if I want to go out I must break through the wall. What am I?
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To unravel me you need a key. No key that was made by locksmith's hand, but a key that only I will understand. What am I?
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It regulates our daily movements, but it feels no interest in our lives. It directs us when to come and go, but does not care if we pay attention. What is it?
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I fly, yet I have no wings. I cry, yet I have no eyes. Darkness follows me; lower light I never see. What am I?
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