I ask no permission before I descend. I hide sharp edges and blur where things end. I have sheltered kings from winter's bite, And spared their allies from judgment's light. I may silence a mountain beneath silent white, Or smother dissent with a single decree. Whatever lies beneath me, Soon becomes harder to see. What am I?

I can help you win Wimbledon or lose your neighbors’ patience.

When is a door not a door? When it's ...

Some people strain me from their OJ drink, yet without me many books would never see ink.

I carry water sand and more. You find me at the beach and store. I have a handle and an open top. Fill me up and do not stop. What am I?