I’m sometimes white and always wrong.
I can break a heart and hurt the strong.
I can build love or tear it down.
I can make a smile or bring a frown.

Neither bought nor sold but more valuable than gold. It is built but not by hand. What is it?

Tickle with your fingers and a song it will sing. Be careful, though, you may break a string. What is it?

One strand dangles.
Two strands twist.
Three or more can fashion this.
What am I?

Three little letters, a paradox to some.
The worse that it is, the better it becomes.
What am I?

I have many feathers to help me fly.
I have a body and head, but I’m not alive.
It is your strength that determines how far I go.
You can hold me in your hand, but I’m never thrown.
What am I?

A mother had five boys: Marco, Tucker, Webster, and Thomas.
Was the fifth boy’s name Frank, Evan, or Alex?

A monkey, a squirrel, and a bird are racing to the top of a coconut tree.
Who will get the banana first?

I can be flipped and broken, but I never move.
I can be closed, and opened, and sometimes removed.
I am sealed by hands.
What am I?

People buy me to eat, but never eat me.
What am I?