Jeff Spicoli learned: No me? No service!

I teach without speaking, I linger when plans fall apart, I arrive uninvited, then sharpen your heart. Some fear me deeply, some call me a guide, I’m blamed for the falls before growth takes its stride. What am I?

We are very little creatures; all of us have different features. One of us in glass is set; one of us you'll find in jet. Another you may see in tin, and a fourth is boxed within. If the fifth you should pursue, it can never fly from you. What are we?

I’m a tool, a toy, a mechanical device. I’m sometimes used only once or twice. My uses are plenty, many and more. I collect them and show them, I’m told I’m a bore. Remembering their names is quite the chore.

A deer that dances beyond the planes. Serving tea and coffee from outer space.