I carry you low and I carry you high, I may carry on even after you die. Consume me and I may be lifted up, Consume too much and you may throw up.

At a story’s end, I patiently dwell, But inside your body, I might raise hell. Read me or cut me, either one clicks; I'm found in your books and biology’s mix.

I am two words. I can only be lost, never won. Think of me and you'll lose. If you tell someone about me, they'll always play me. What am I?

I am known for measuring length, but I do not have lines or numbers. You might slip on me.

I start out tiny, but soon, I'm a dad, My teeth appear out of the palm of your hand. Careful or you'll find me stuck in your head, Many a young parent might wish me dead.