A man had a book that was worth $40,000. There were only 2 books in existence. He threw it in the furnace, reducing it to a pile of soot. Why did he do this?
He destroyed the book because he has two, and by only having one, the value goes up.
I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air. What am I?
