I Got These Riddles, Man

It may be a trite and overused trope (Tolkien, anyone?), but I have a "riddle session" scene in Source planned. Below are some that I've basically pulled out of my ass; all are no doubt permutations of riddles I've heard and assimilated. I've chosen them for their adherence to inherent themes of the narrative. All of you random visitors out there, please feel free to critique my wording, delivery, or just answer the damn riddles and assess their inherent "riddle" value.

What comes in the night uncalled and leaves in the day unstolen?

What can you break by saying its name?

I fly without wings, roam without legs, and make magic with no horn. I create concerts for lovers and murder for tyrants. I make the beautiful and drive the beautiful mad. What am I?

In a one-story pink house, there was a pink pony, a pink cat, a pink fish, a pink computer, a pink chair, a pink table, a pink telephone, a pink shower– everything was pink! What color were the stairs?

What bends all colors, left by the moon for the sun to steal?

Walk on the living, there is nothing to say.
Walk on the dead, they will give you away.

>Also, as I am accustomed to including, an excerpt:

"What in theee-actual Tartarus do you want a cybernetic leg for? You can't put weapons on a damn leg. It'd make the stupid thing weigh thirty bails. Think about it, all a' your legs have to weigh exactly the same, or you'll be kissin' floor tile on the hourly."

I mulled over that.

"Also, mods. What, you want a damn mutli-tool? The servos alone... Do you know anything about mechanical engineering? How are you going to walk with that trash? Here's a tip: get a normal, safely cloned leg, and wear something with pockets. Also, get outta my shop. You bug me, and you bug my fish."