Born in fire, shaped from stone, I pull what’s iron, yet stay alone. I never touch, yet forces bend. Opposites rush, like seeks its end. Invisible lines obey my call. What am I?

A mathematicians delight, I reflect the stars when I swing my arm; a godsend to a sailor, or when measuring mountains from afar.

I am the root of wrongs. I can make the most elaborate plans crash down. First, a woman, unwed. Second, where water rests if theres a bridge. Third, the hardest comedy, what you do in lines, and in place. Put them together and you get me. If the clues elude you because of my wording, then perhaps the answer is me.

I’m a sound wave. You say it in pain It’s the frequency that should give it away.

I am one , I am two Many dozens of me and I am still minute Given time and patience, I grow beyond what you can count