I am a Valentine's flower that went up in the morning sky, yet I never left my garden bush. What am I?

I am a silent thief that takes your breath away, but I leave your body completely untouched. What am I?

I have an eye, but I am entirely blind. I have a long, sharp tail, but I possess no body. What am I?

Named in honor of a mighty Roman dictator, I mark the exact midpoint of the calendar year and kick off my fourth day with booming patriotic pride. What am I?

I am the seventh month, but I am also the sound you make when you urge a stubborn vehicle to move forward. What am I?

I am a high-speed indoor sport played with rackets against four walls, but during autumn dinner, I am a harvested gourd baked with butter beside the turkey. What am I?

Fighters step inside my square boundaries to wage a brawl, a smartphone produces me to alert you of an incoming voice, but inside a velvet box on Valentine's Day, I am an endless loop of precious metal. What am I?