When life's journey's a grand old affair, a small slip promises you'll be there. A stub of trust in your trembling hand, granting entrance to sights so grand.

No teeth, yet I bite, no hands, yet I squeeze. I visit after workouts, and drop you to your knees.

I fit in sockets, and brighten the space, I sprout, then grow, then flower in place. A four-letter word, one few stop to think, Yet I live in the soil, and glow in a blink.

If you do me well, the price goes down. If you do me poorly, the seller wears a frown. I’m common in markets but rare in the mall. What am I?

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.