I can be part of your foot, yet I never wear a shoe. I stand above a grand doorway, yet I cannot see the view. I am the chief of villains, but I do no crime myself. I am a sneaky prefix sitting on a grammar shelf. What am I?

It remains under the skin forever It disappears in water On paper it can change the world

I'm often found in pairs, but rarely speak. I help you gain when you're feeling weak. Though I have no voice, I'm known for my weight. What am I, that makes you lift your fate?

I come out white and creamy warm, then pasteurized before your home. My form is changed with practiced hands, to something new from what I am. I’m drunk and eaten, sliced and poured, what white drink do so many adore?

I hold your cash and cards inside, and travel with you far and wide. I fold and close, yet open too, a daily thing you may use.