Some will use me, while others will not, some have remembered, while others have forgot. For profit or gain, I'm used expertly, I can't be picked off the ground or tossed into the sea. Only gained from patience and time, can you unravel my rhyme? What am I?
I have no voice and yet I speak to you, I tell of all things in the world that people do. I have leaves, but I am not a tree, I have pages, but I am not a bride or royalty. I have a spine and hinges, but I am not a man or a door, I have told you all, I cannot tell you more. What am I?