Hard Riddles

Your savings sleep inside me. A river runs along me without ever coming in. And when a plane leans into a turn, it does me. What am I?

I'm the city where a country's government sits. I'm also the tall version of every letter in the alphabet, and I'm the money you need to start a business. What am I?

I sit in a classroom and I sit in your eye. In the first place I take notes; in the second I grow wider when the lights go down. What am I?

Lightning strikes as me. A door slides me shut. A nut twists onto me. And a frightened horse does me across the field. What am I?

I'm wrapped in paper on your birthday, I'm the only moment you can ever actually live in, and I'm the word you call out in class when the teacher reads your name. What am I?

You have me only while you sit; stand up and I'm gone. Runners count me around a track, and a thirsty cat does me at its water bowl. What am I?

Soccer players run across me, singers try to hit me, salespeople make me to investors, and sailors once sealed wooden boats with me, black and sticky. What am I?

I spread fast through a garden and freshen your breath. New coins are made inside me, and a collector calls a perfect, unused stamp by my name. What am I?

I flop about on the rocks by the sea, I keep a jar airtight, and long ago I pressed a king's mark into warm wax. What am I?

I flow in rivers and in wires, I'm another word for 'up to date', and I sound exactly like a small dried berry. What am I?

A tree wears me as a coat, a dog lets me out when a stranger knocks, and sailors once used my name for a kind of ship with three or more masts. What am I?

I wade through marshes on long thin legs, I lift steel beams high above a city, and you do me with your neck to see over a crowd. What am I?

I sit on top of a gift, I point at the waves from the front of a ship, a cellist draws me across the strings, and a performer does me at the end of the show. What am I?

A fish is covered in me, a piano student practices me, a climber does me to a cliff, and a baker weighs flour on me. What am I?

An elephant drinks with me, a tree stands on me, a car carries suitcases in me, and an old attic keeps clothes in me. What am I?

I'm a sweet brown fruit that grows on a palm, a square you circle on a calendar, and an evening out with someone you like. What am I?

Sailors take turns keeping me through the night, you can wear me on your wrist, and you do me with your eyes. What am I?

One kind of me wears a crown and governs a country. The other kind lies in a pencil case and measures in inches. Both kinds keep things in line. What am I?

I follow winter, I push back when you squash me, and fresh water bubbles up out of the ground through me. What am I?

I'm swung on a golf course, I'm printed in black on playing cards, and I'm a group that people pay to join. What am I?

I'm a river that moves slower than a snail. I carve out valleys without a blade, and I leave boulders in fields far from where they started. What am I?

The more you pay me, the smaller I get. Ignore me and I quietly grow on my own. You can't see me in your wallet, yet I can keep you awake at night. What am I?

I'm a net woven without hands. I catch without hunting, and morning dew turns me into a necklace of tiny beads. What am I?

I rise on your skin when you're cold or when music moves you, and I'm named after a farm bird that isn't anywhere near you. What am I?

I arrive uninvited and make your whole body jump without moving your feet. People try to chase me away by startling you, or by telling you to hold your breath or sip water upside down. What am I?

Every mistake I fix makes me smaller, and what I leave behind is crumbs. I often sit on the very tool whose work I undo. What am I?

I carry words I can't read. I'm sealed before my journey and wear a stamp in my corner. Once I deliver the words I'm torn open and thrown away, while they are kept. What am I?

I have dates but no fruit, days but no nights, and months but no Moon. You hang me on a wall, cross bits of me out, and replace me every year. What am I?

I rise when you have a fever and fall when you're well again, yet I'm never sick myself. I'm often slipped under your tongue. What am I?

I'm a small tile split into two halves, each showing a number of spots. Tip me over, and if my neighbors stand close enough in a line, the whole row follows. What am I?