I pound without a fist, I throb without a heart. I can cloud your thoughts and tear your world apart. Though I have no voice, my presence makes you cry. What am I?

I sit above kings, yet I rule no land, I am worn by the mighty, the meek and the Wild, But never by a soldier, servant or child. What am I?

It’s above the sewer, If you remove the last letter. You could call it Gouda-er, But sounds much better. You could even ask Shredder.

Tell me, How does the ocean greet the shoreline?

If athletes get athlete’s foot, what do elves get?