I heard of an invading, vanquishing army sweeping across the land, liquid-quick; conquering everything, quelling resistance. With it came darkness, dimming the light. Humans hid in their houses, while outside spears pierced, shattering stones walls. Uncountable soldiers smashed into the ground, but each elicited life as he died. When the army had vanished, advancing northward, the land was gree and growing, refresh.
Mick and John were in a 100 meter race. When Mick crossed the finish line, John was only at the 90 meter mark. Mick suggested they run another race. This time, Mick would start ten meters behind the starting line. All other things being equal, will John win, lose, or will it be a tie in the second race?
John will lose again. In the second race, Mick started ten meters back. By the time John reaches the 90 meter mark, Mick will have caught up him. Therefore, the final ten meters will belong to the faster of the two. Since Mick is faster than John, he will win the final 10 meters and of course the race.
I may seem real yet I am not,
Once you're gone I'm often forgot.
Time here stretches and it shrinks,
It all depends on how you think.
I may be good, I may be bad,
I may be the same as one you've had.
What am I?
What does man love more than life,
Fear more than death or mortal strife.
What the poor have, the rich require,
and what contented men desire.
What the miser spends and the spendthrift saves,
And all men carry to their graves?