I judge your wallet and your art; I ticket sins then say I’m smart. What am I?

I came as gift, so light, so cheap, A servant strong, in hands to keep. But now I break, to dust so small, I hide in blood, I choke, I crawl.

I flit through the night on silent flight, or swing in the day with all my might. Upside down or gripped in your hand, Im a creature or tool, in sky or on land.

I stay in place or follow you around. I admire your face or cool it down.

I have keys but no locks, I have space but no room, You can enter but never leave. What am I?