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I'm the height of luxury, the finest you'll find. You'll find me at the end of a revelry with the beginning of a head of state's dissent.
You never think of us as individuals, preferring to see the bigger picture. Still, when one of us is dead, you can't ignore it, no matter how hard you try. What are we?
I'm Shakespeare's boy who died tragically. You probably think I misspelled my name or that I'm a pig in a poke (of sorts), but the Dane came later.
I make your skin feel nicer and help you feel better when you have a cold by spitting everywhere. If you live somewhere rainy or steamy, you probably don't need me.
I could be a tasty-flavored vinegar or a nickname for 43. Or maybe I'm just here to look pretty next to the sidewalk.
I come in red and yellow, green and white. Some people just hate me, but I'm part of the Holy Trinity...in Louisiana, at least. You'll have to dig deep to find me and you might be moved to tears when you get past my surface.
I'm one for sorrow. I'm a clever hoarder who likes shiny things. To know my name, give me half of a magnet and a sweet treat.
It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a pig!
Canada's favorite: a petulant face at the beginning, and part of a fork at the end.
Am I an ingredient added to a type of liquor in beer, or just child's play?
I repel bacteria, fungi, and certain undead. What am I?
A commonly confused word when being used to comfort or instruct.
I'm the height of luxury, the finest you'll find. You'll find me at the end of a revelry with the beginning of a head of state's dissent.