I am the part you seldom see, yet without me, towers fall. I drink in the dark so others can eat in the light. Pull me up, and I may take the past with me. In numbers I hide at the base of powers, in words I hide at the base of meaning. What am I?

I live when you wonder and die when you know, I grow in the maybe and shrink in the so. I vanish when named, yet guide what you do. Half truth, half question, what am I to you?

You drop me in the toilet I float on water I'm cut and chopped Mathematicians deal with me , as do lumberjacks

I can be spoken, but never said. I can be written, but never read. I exist only when you don’t look for me. The moment you find me, I vanish. What am I?

A biological elevator, its passengers water and sugar. Or a category for the maths and sciences.