Open me up, I guarantee: you'll find something quite tasty. Write my name down and you'll see horizontal symmetry.
I've committed no crime, yet I belong behind bars. What's my job?
When you part with me, we remain together.
I'm a place in Africa - but strangely I've been spotted hanging around elections on the other side of the world
I'm a tiny hole in both the living and lifeless. My name is one of a set of four homophones. My plural form is also one of four homophones. What am I?
I'm a word with a sinister trait: I describe both the things that have departed, and the things that remain behind.
Formerly the 9th wanderer, I've been downgraded - to the likes of sneezy, dopey or doc. What is my name?
Double me or halve me and I remain the same each time - out of reach.
Poetically, I measure time and pattern. But I can also just give you the distance to Saturn.
My first is something you wear on your heads. My second helps keep you safe in your beds. As a whole, you can use me to shout wide and far - or at very least, just look to us like you are.
I am named after a little pig - what a tragedy!
I'm a place (but I'm not Asian)
and a race (but not Caucasian)
What am I?
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