Silent guardians of plazas and parks, they stand frozen in tales told by sculptor's hands, capturing history's breathless gaze.

I can be baked but I'm not bread. When I'm hot, people want to get rid of me. I'm a component in chip manufacturing but I'm not silicon. When there are many of me that are small, we're insignificant. When people sit on a couch, they can become a kind of me.

If you get a call to ask if it's running, you'd better go catch it!

Born of earth, tempered by fire, I rest within a wooden shell. I whisper thoughts I do not know, leaving marks where minds once dwell. The more I’m honed, the less I last yet greater still the work I cast.

I have two eyes but never blink, I help you see what’s far, I think. I stretch the world and bring it near, Though still, I stand and make things clear. What am I?