Within walls as white as milk, Ringed with curtains, soft as silk. Inside a fountain, crystal clear, A golden apple lies right here. Though no doors or windows in this stronghold, Still thieves break in and steal the gold. What am I?

What cheese is made backwards?

As a stone inside a tree, I'll help your words outlive thee. But if you push me as I stand, the more I move the less I am.

What is greater than god, more evil than the devil. The poor have it, while the Rich need it. If you eat it you die!

I am stronger than an individual mare, and I am the same from the front or the rear. What am I?

What's a box with seven holes?

I clear the name of guilty men and mixed with common items I am deadly. What am I?