I speak in clues instead of telling you anything directly. I look harmless until you try to untangle me. I reveal my meaning only when you stop reading my words and start thinking around them. What am I?

Born in fire, shaped from stone, I pull what’s iron, yet stay alone. I never touch, yet forces bend. Opposites rush, like seeks its end. Invisible lines obey my call. What am I?

I am the root of wrongs. I can make the most elaborate plans crash down. First, a woman, unwed. Second, where water rests if theres a bridge. Third, the hardest comedy, what you do in lines, and in place. Put them together and you get me. If the clues elude you because of my wording, then perhaps the answer is me.

I am one , I am two Many dozens of me and I am still minute Given time and patience, I grow beyond what you can count

I exist only when shared. I grow when divided. I die when hoarded. I weigh nothing, yet entire worlds are built on me. What am I?