The Elements
of Style
Oliver
Strunk
|
If you wrote something
for which someone sent you a check, if you cashed the check and it
didn't bounce, and if you then paid the light bill with the money, I
consider you talented.
|
Stephen
King
|
Generations of
Americans have grown up on a diet of
Strunk’s ‘Elements of Style.’ I am not an American. I just mind my own
business
and to the best of my abilities follow the unwritten rules of human
decency.
But then I turned a corner and suddenly faced Moses himself, without
the beard.
He was carving in stone the very commandments of what had been my way
of living
all along - only this wasn’t Moses and it wasn’t about the rules of
morality.
It was Oliver Strunk and a book about style. American style to be
precise.
A style that by now
should be the hallmark of modern style
everywhere. Of course we all know when Moses had written the ten
commandments
he still was the same man as before - at the time a fugitive wanted for
homicide in Egypt - but at least for everybody else it was put out
there as a
choice to do better. Oliver Strunk has set in stone what to do in order
to
write good style, and he said it in a way that everybody can absorb - a
style
by the people, for the people, of the people. You do it his way or you
don’t
even need to try.
And that
should be the end of it: we all learn how to do it, and so from now on
everybody will write as good as the next, right? Wrong. The ‘Elements
of Style’
is a tool, it is not something to hide behind. Strunk’s ‘Elements’
perform a
double act. First it teaches you how to write good style, then it
upstages your
incompetence. Everybody can master the elements, but not everybody can
plug in
the elements into his temperament, let alone boast a temperament worth
plugging
in. If you have it in you, you will succeed. If not ... .
michael
sympson, December 2006
Contents
Introduction
I.
Elementary Rules of
Usage
1. Form the possessive
singular of nouns by adding 's.
2. In a series of three
or more terms with a single
conjunction, use a comma after each term except the last.
3. Enclose parenthetic
expressions between commas.
4. Place a comma before
a conjunction introducing an independent
clause.
5. Do not join
independent clauses with a comma.
6. Do not break
sentences in two.
7. Use a colon after an
independent clause to introduce a
list of particulars, an appositive, an amplification, or an
illustrative
quotation.
8. Use a dash to set
off an abrupt break or interruption and
to announce a long appositive or summary.
9. The number of the
subject determines the number of the
verb.
10. Use the proper case
of pronoun.
11. A participial
phrase at the beginning of a sentence
must refer to the grammatical subject.
II.
Elementary Principles
of Composition
12. Choose a suitable
design and hold to it.
13. Make the paragraph
the unit of composition.
14. Use the active
voice.
15. Put statements in
positive form.
16. Use definite,
specific, concrete language.
17. Omit needless words.
18. Avoid a succession
of loose sentences.
19. Express coordinate
ideas in similar form.
20. Keep related words
together.
21. In summaries, keep
to one tense.
22. Place the emphatic
words of a sentence at the end.
III. A
few Matters of Form
IV.
Words and Expressions
commonly misused
V. An
Approach to Style
(With a List of Reminders)
1. Place yourself in
the background.
2. Write in a way that
comes naturally.
3. Work from a suitable
design.
4. Write with nouns and
verbs.
5. Revise and rewrite.
6. Do not overwrite.
7. Do not overstate.
8. Avoid the use of
qualifiers.
9. Do not affect a
breezy manner.
10. Use orthodox
spelling.
11. Do not explain too
much.
12. Do not construct
awkward adverbs.
13. Make sure the
reader knows who is speaking.
14. Avoid fancy words.
15. Do not use dialect
unless your ear is good.
16. Be clear.
17. Do not inject
opinion.
18. Use figures of
speech sparingly.
19. Do not take
shortcuts at the cost of clarity.
20. Avoid foreign
languages.
21. Prefer the standard
to the offbeat.
Glossary
Introduction
At
the close of the first World War, when I was a student at Cornell, I
took a
course called English 8. My professor was William Strunk Jr. A textbook
required for the course was a slim volume called The Elements of
Style,
whose author was the professor
himself. The year was 1919. The book was known on the campus in those
days as
"the little book," with the stress on the word "little." It
had been privately printed by the author.
I passed
the course, graduated from the university, and forgot the book but not
the
professor. Some thirty-eight years later, the book bobbed up again in
my life
when Macmillan commissioned me to revise it for the college market and
the
general trade. Meantime, Professor Strunk had died.
The
Elements of Style,
when I reexamined it in 1957, seemed to me to contain rich deposits of
gold. It
was Will Strunk's parvum opus, his attempt to cut the vast tangle of
English
rhetoric down to size and write its rules and principles on the head of
a pin.
Will himself had hung the tag "little" on the book; he referred to it
sardonically and with secret pride as "the little book," always giving the
word
"little" a special twist, as though he were putting a spin on a ball.
In its original form, it was a forty-three page summation of the case
for
cleanliness, accuracy, and brevity in the use of English. Today,
fifty-two
years later, its vigor is unimpaired, and for sheer pith I think it
probably
sets a record that is not likely to be broken. Even after I got through
tampering with it, it was still a tiny thing, a barely tarnished gem.
Seven
rules of usage, eleven principles of composition, a few matters of
form, and a
list of words and expressions commonly misused — that was the sum and
substance
of Professor Strunk's work. Somewhat audaciously, and in an attempt to
give my
publisher his money's worth, I added a chapter called "An Approach to
Style," setting forth my own prejudices, my notions of error, my
articles
of faith. This chapter (Chapter V) is addressed particularly to those
who feel
that English prose composition is not only a necessary skill but a
sensible
pursuit as well — a way to spend one's days. I think Professor Strunk
would not
object to that.
A second
edition of the book was published in 1972. I have now completed a third
revision. Chapter IV has been refurbished with words and expressions of
a
recent vintage; four rules of usage have been added to Chapter I. Fresh
examples have been added to some of the rules and principles,
amplification has
reared its head in a few places in the text where I felt an assault
could
successfully be made on the bastions of its brevity, and in general the
book
has received a thorough overhaul — to correct errors, delete
bewhiskered
entries, and enliven the argument.
Professor
Strunk was a positive man. His book contains rules of grammar phrased
as direct
orders. In the main I have not tried to soften his commands, or modify
his
pronouncements, or remove the special objects of his scorn. I have
tried,
instead, to preserve the flavor of his discontent while slightly
enlarging the
scope of the discussion. The Elements of Style does not pretend to
survey the
whole field. Rather it proposes to give in brief space the principal
requirements of plain English style. It concentrates on fundamentals:
the rules
of usage and principles of composition most commonly violated.
The reader
will soon discover that these rules and principles are in the form of
sharp
commands, Sergeant Strunk snapping orders to his platoon. "Do not join
independent clauses with a comma." (Rule 5.) "Do not break sentences
in two." (Rule 6.) "Use the active voice." (Rule 14.) "Omit
needless words." (Rule 17.) "Avoid a succession of loose sentences."
(Rule 18.) "In summaries, keep to one tense." (Rule 21.) Each rule or
principle is followed by a short hortatory essay, and usually the
exhortation
is followed by, or interlarded with, examples in parallel columns — the
true
vs. the false, the right vs. the wrong, the timid vs. the bold, the
ragged vs.
the trim. From every line there peers out at me the puckish face of my
professor, his short hair parted neatly in the middle and combed down
over his
forehead, his eyes blinking incessantly behind steel-rimmed spectacles
as
though he had just emerged into strong light, his lips nibbling each
other like
nervous horses, his smile shuttling to and fro under a carefully edged
mustache.
"Omit
needless words!" cries the author on page 23, and into that imperative
Will Strunk really put his heart and soul. In the days when I was
sitting in
his class, he omitted so many needless words, and omitted them so
forcibly and
with such eagerness and obvious relish, that he often seemed in the
position of
having shortchanged himself — a man left with nothing more to say yet
with time
to fill, a radio prophet who had out-distanced the clock. Will Strunk
got out
of this predicament by a simple trick: he uttered every sentence three
times.
When he delivered his oration on brevity to the class, he leaned
forward over
his desk, grasped his coat lapels in his hands, and, in a husky,
conspiratorial
voice, said, "Rule Seventeen. Omit needless words! Omit needless words!
Omit needless words!"
He was a
memorable man, friendly and funny. Under the remembered sting of his
kindly
lash, I have been trying to omit needless words since 1919, and
although there
are still many words that cry for omission and the huge task will never
be
accomplished, it is exciting to me to reread the masterly Strunkian
elaboration
of this noble theme. It goes:
Vigorous
writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a
paragraph
no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should
have no
unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not
that
the writer make all sentences short or avoid all detail and treat
subjects only
in outline, but that every word tell.
There you
have a short, valuable essay on the nature and beauty of brevity —
fifty-nine
words that could change the world. Having recovered from his adventure
in
prolixity (fifty-nine words were a lot of words in the tight world of
William
Strunk Jr.), the professor proceeds to give a few quick lessons in
pruning.
Students learn to cut the dead-wood from "this is a subject that,"
reducing it to "this subject," a saving of three words. They learn to
trim "used for fuel purposes" down to "used for fuel." They
learn that they are being chatterboxes when they say "the question as
to
whether" and that they should just say "whether" — a saving of
four words out of a possible five.
The
professor devotes a special paragraph to the vile expression the
fact that,
a phrase that causes him to quiver
with revulsion. The expression, he says, should be "revised out of
every
sentence in which it occurs." But a shadow of gloom seems to hang over
the
page, and you feel that he knows how hopeless his cause is. I suppose I
have
written the fact that
a thousand times in the heat of composition, revised it out maybe five
hundred
times in the cool aftermath. To be batting only .500 this late in the
season,
to fail half the time to connect with this fat pitch, saddens me, for
it seems
a betrayal of the man who showed me how to swing at it and made the
swinging
seem worthwhile.
I treasure The
Elements of Style
for its sharp advice, but I treasure it even more for the audacity and
self-confidence of its author. Will knew where he stood. He was so sure
of
where he stood, and made his position so clear and so plausible, that
his
peculiar stance has continued to invigorate me — and, I am sure,
thousands of
other ex-students — during the years that have intervened since our
first
encounter. He had a number of likes and dislikes that were almost as
whimsical
as the choice of a necktie, yet he made them seem utterly convincing.
He
disliked the word forceful and advised us to use forcible instead. He felt that
the word clever was greatly overused:
"It is
best restricted to ingenuity displayed in small matters." He despised
the
expression student body,
which he termed gruesome, and made a special trip downtown to the Alumni
News
office one day
to protest the expression and suggest that studentry be substituted — a
coinage of his
own, which he felt was similar to citizenry. I am told that the
News editor was
so charmed by the visit, if not by the word, that he ordered the
student body
buried, never to rise again. Studentry has taken its place.
It's not much of an improvement,
but it does sound less cadaverous, and it made Will Strunk quite happy.
Some years
ago, when the heir to the throne of England was a child, I noticed a
headline
in the Times about Bonnie Prince Charlie: "CHARLES' TONSILS OUT."
Immediately Rule 1 leapt to mind.
1. Form the
possessive singular of nouns by adding 's. Follow this rule whatever
the final
consonant. Thus write,
Charles's friend
Burns's poems
the
witch's malice
Clearly,
Will Strunk had foreseen, as far back as 1918, the dangerous
tonsillectomy of a
prince, in which the surgeon removes the tonsils and the Times copy
desk
removes the final s. He started his book with it. I commend Rule 1 to
the
Times, and I trust that Charles's throat, not Charles' throat, is in
fine shape
today.
Style rules
of this sort are, of course, somewhat a matter of individual
preference, and
even the established rules of grammar are open to challenge. Professor
Strunk,
although one of the most inflexible and choosy of men, was quick to
acknowledge
the fallacy of inflexibility and the danger of doctrine. "It is an old
observation," he wrote, "that the best writers sometimes disregard
the rules of rhetoric. When they do so, however, the reader will
usually find
in the sentence some compensating merit, attained at the cost of the
violation.
Unless he is certain of doing as well, he will probably do best to
follow the
rules."
It is
encouraging to see how perfectly a book, even a dusty rule book,
perpetuates
and extends the spirit of a man. Will Strunk loved the clear, the
brief, the
bold, and his book is clear, brief, bold. Boldness is perhaps its chief
distinguishing mark. On page 26, explaining one of his parallels, he
says,
"The lefthand version gives the impression that the writer is undecided
or
timid, apparently unable or afraid to choose one form of expression and
hold to
it." And his original Rule 11 was "Make definite assertions."
That was Will all over. He scorned the vague, the tame, the colorless,
the
irresolute. He felt it was worse to be irresolute than to be wrong. I
remember
a day in class when he leaned far forward, in his characteristic pose —
the pose
of a man about to impart a secret — and croaked, "If you don't know how
to
pronounce a word, say it loud! If you don't know how to pronounce a
word, say
it loud!" This comical piece of advice struck me as sound at the time,
and
I still respect it. Why compound ignorance with inaudibility? Why run
and hide?
All through The
Elements of Style
one finds evidences of the author's deep sympathy for the reader. Will
felt
that the reader was in serious trouble most of the time, floundering in
a
swamp, and that it was the duty of anyone attempting to write English
to drain
this swamp quickly and get the reader up on dry ground, or at least to
throw a
rope. In revising the text, I have tried to hold steadily in mind this
belief
of his, this concern for the bewildered reader.
In the
English classes of today, "the little book" is surrounded by longer,
lower textbooks — books with permissive steering and automatic
transitions.
Perhaps the book has become something of a curiosity. To me, it still
seems to
maintain its original poise, standing, in a drafty time, erect,
resolute, and
assured. I still find the Strunkian wisdom a comfort, the Strunkian
humor a
delight, and the Strunkian attitude toward right-and- wrong a blessing
undisguised.
1979
The
Elements of Style
I. Elementary Rules of
Usage
1. Form
the possessive singular of nouns by adding 's.
Follow this
rule whatever the final consonant. Thus write,
Charles's friend
Burns's poems
the witch's malice
Exceptions
are the possessives of ancient proper names ending in -es and -is, the possessive Jesus', and such forms as for
conscience' sake, for
righteousness' sake.
But such forms as Moses' Laws, Isis' temple are commonly replaced
by
the laws of Moses
the temple of Isis
The
pronominal possessives hers, its, theirs, yours, and ours have no apostrophe.
Indefinite
pronouns, however, use the apostrophe to show possession.
one's rights
somebody else's umbrella
A common
error is to write it's
for its, or vice
versa. The first is a contraction, meaning "it is." The second is a
possessive.
It's a wise dog that
scratches its own fleas.
2. In a
series of three or more terms with a single conjunction, use a comma
after each
term except the last.
Thus write,
red,
white, and blue gold, silver, or copper
He opened the letter, read it, and made a note of
its contents.
This comma
is often referred to as the "serial" comma. In the names of business
firms the last comma is usually omitted. Follow the usage of the
individual
firm.
Little,
Brown and Company Donaldson, Lufkin & Jenrette
3.
Enclose parenthetic expressions between commas.
The best way to see
a country, unless you are pressed for
time, is to travel on foot.
This rule
is difficult to apply; it is frequently hard to decide whether a single
word,
such as however, or a brief phrase is or is not parenthetic. If the
interruption to the flow of the sentence is but slight, the commas may
be
safely omitted. But whether the interruption is slight or considerable,
never
omit one comma and leave the other. There is no defense for such
punctuation as
Marjories
husband, Colonel Nelson paid us a visit yesterday. or
My brother you will be pleased to hear, is now in
perfect health.
Dates
usually contain parenthetic words or figures. Punctuate as follows:
February
to July, 1992
April 6, 1986
Wednesday, November 14, 1990
Note that
it is customary to omit the comma in
6 April 1988
The last
form is an excellent way to write a date; the figures are separated by
a word
and are, for that reason, quickly grasped.
A name or a
title in direct address is parenthetic.
If, Sir, you refuse, I cannot predict what will
happen.
Well, Susan, this is a fine mess you are in.
The
abbreviations etc., i.e., and e.g., the abbreviations for
academic degrees, and titles that
follow a name are parenthetic and should be punctuated accordingly.
Letters, packages, etc.,
should go here.
Horace Fulsome, Ph.D.,
presided.
Rachel Simonds, Attorney
The Reverend Harry Lang,
S.J.
No comma,
however, should separate a noun from a restrictive term of
identification.
Billy
the Kid
The novelist Jane Austen
William the Conqueror
The poet Sappho
Although Junior, with its abbreviation
Jr., has commonly been
regarded as
parenthetic, logic suggests that it is, in fact, restrictive and
therefore not
in need of a comma.
James
Wright Jr.
Nonrestrictive
relative clauses are parenthetic, as are similar clauses introduced by
conjunctions indicating time or place. Commas are therefore needed. A
nonrestrictive clause is one that does not serve to identify or define
the
antecedent noun.
The audience, which
had at first been indifferent, became
more and more interested.
In 1769, when
Napoleon was born, Corsica had but recently
been acquired by France.
Nether Stowey, where
Coleridge wrote The Rime of the
Ancient Mariner, is a few miles from Bridgewater.
In these
sentences, the clauses introduced by which, when, and where are nonrestrictive;
they do not limit or define, they merely
add something. In the first example, the clause introduced by which
does not
serve to tell which of several possible audiences is meant; the reader
presumably knows that already. The clause adds, parenthetically, a
statement supplementing
that in the main clause. Each of the three sentences is a combination
of two
statements that might have been made independently.
The audience was at
first indifferent. Later it became
more and more interested.
Napoleon was born in
1769. At that time Corsica had but
recently been acquired by France.
Coleridge wrote The
Rime of the Ancient Mariner at Nether
Stowey. Nether Stowey is a few miles from Bridgewater.
Restrictive
clauses, by contrast, are not parenthetic and are not set off by
commas. Thus,
People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw
stones.
Here the
clause introduced by who does serve to tell which people are meant; the
sentence, unlike the sentences above, cannot be split into two
independent
statements. The same principle of comma use applies to participial
phrases and
to appositives.
People sitting in the rear couldn't hear, (restrictive)
Uncle
Bert, being slightly deaf, moved forward, (non-restrictive)
My
cousin Bob is a talented harpist, (restrictive)
Our
oldest daughter, Mary, sings, (nonrestrictive)
When the
main clause of a sentence is preceded by a phrase or a subordinate
clause, use
a comma to set off these elements.
Partly
by hard fighting, partly by diplomatic skill, they enlarged their
dominions to
the east and rose to royal rank with the possession of Sicily.
4. Place
a comma before a conjunction introducing an independent clause.
The early records of
the city
have disappeared, and the story of its first years can no longer be
reconstructed.
The situation is
perilous, but there is still one chance
of escape.
Two-part
sentences of which the second member is introduced by as (in the sense
of
"because"), for, or, nor, or while (in the sense of "and
at the same time") likewise
require a comma before the conjunction.
If a
dependent clause, or an introductory phrase requiring to be set off by
a comma,
precedes the second independent clause, no comma is needed after the
conjunction.
The situation is
perilous, but if
we are prepared to act promptly, there is still one chance of escape.
When the
subject is the same for both clauses and is expressed only once, a
comma is
useful if the connective is but. When the connective is and, the comma
should
be omitted if the relation between the two statements is close or
immediate.
I have heard the
arguments, but am still unconvinced.
He has had several years'
experience and is thoroughly competent.
5. Do
not join independent clauses with a comma.
If two or
more clauses grammatically complete and not joined by a conjunction are
to form
a single compound sentence, the proper mark of punctuation is a
semicolon.
Mary
Shelley's works are entertaining; they are full of engaging ideas.
It is nearly half past five; we cannot reach town
before dark.
It is, of
course, equally correct to write each of these as two sentences,
replacing the
semicolons with periods.
Mary
Shelley's works are entertaining. They are full of engaging ideas.
It is nearly half past five. We cannot reach town
before dark.
If a
conjunction is inserted, the proper mark is a comma. (Rule 4.)
Mary
Shelley's works are entertaining, for they are full of engaging ideas.
It is nearly half past five, and we cannot reach
town before dark.
A
comparison of the three forms given above will show clearly the
advantage of
the first. It is, at least in the examples given, better than the
second form
because it suggests the close relationship between the two statements
in a way
that the second does not attempt, and better than the third because it
is
briefer and therefore more forcible. Indeed, this simple method of
indicating
relationship between statements is one of the most useful devices of
composition. The relationship, as above, is commonly one of cause and
consequence.
Note
that if the second clause is preceded by an adverb, such as accordingly,
besides, then, therefore,
or thus, and not
by a conjunction, the semicolon is still required.
I
had never been in the place before; besides, it was dark as a tomb.
An
exception to the semicolon rule is worth noting here. A comma is
preferable
when the clauses are very short and alike in form, or when the tone of
the
sentence is easy and conversational.
Man proposes, God disposes.
The gates swung apart, the bridge fell, the
portcullis was drawn up.
I hardly knew him, he was so changed.
Here today, gone tomorrow.
6. Do
not break sentences in two.
In other
words, do not use periods for commas.
I met them on a
Cunard liner many years ago. Coming home
from Liverpool to New York.
She was an
interesting talker. A woman who had traveled
all over the world and lived in half a dozen countries.
In both
these examples, the first period should be replaced by a comma and the
following word begun with a small letter.
It is
permissible to make an emphatic word or expression serve the purpose of
a
sentence and to punctuate it accordingly:
Again
and again he called out. No reply.
The writer
must, however, be certain that the emphasis is warranted, lest a
clipped
sentence seem merely a blunder in syntax or in punctuation. Generally
speaking,
the place for broken sentences is in dialogue, when a character happens
to
speak in a clipped or fragmentary way.
Rules 3, 4,
5, and 6 cover the most important principles that govern punctuation.
They
should be so thoroughly mastered that their application becomes second
nature.
7. Use a
colon after an independent clause to introduce a list of particulars,
an
appositive, an amplification, or an illustrative quotation.
A colon
tells the reader that what follows is closely related to the preceding
clause.
The colon has more effect than the comma, less power to separate than
the
semicolon, and more formality than the dash. It usually follows an
independent
clause and should not separate a verb from its complement or a
preposition from
its object. The examples in the lefthand column, below, are wrong; they
should
be rewritten as in the righthand column.
Your dedicated
whittler requires: a knife, a piece of
wood, and a back porch.
Understanding is
that penetrating quality of knowledge
that grows from: theory, practice, conviction, assertion, error, and
humiliation.
Your dedicated
whittler requires three props: a knife, a
piece of wood, and a back porch.
Understanding is
that penetrating quality of knowledge
that grows from theory, practice, conviction, assertion, error, and
humiliation.
Join two
independent clauses with a colon if the second interprets or amplifies
the
first.
But
even so, there was a directness and dispatch about animal burial: there
was no
stopover in the undertaker's foul parlor, no wreath or spray.
A colon may
introduce a quotation that supports or contributes to the preceding
clause.
The
squalor of the streets reminded her of a line from Oscar Wilde: "We are
all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
The colon
also has certain functions of form: to follow the salutation of a
formal
letter, to separate hour from minute in a notation of time, and to
separate the
title of a work from its subtitle or a Bible chapter from a verse.
Dear Mr. Montague:
departs at 10:48 P.M.
Practical Calligraphy:
An Introduction to Italic Script
Nehemiah 11:7
8. Use a
dash to set off an abrupt break or interruption and to announce a long
appositive or summary.
A dash is a
mark of separation stronger than a comma, less formal than a colon, and
more
relaxed than parentheses.
His
first thought on getting out of bed - if he had any thought at all -
was to get
back in again.
The
rear axle began to make a noise - a grinding, chattering,
teeth-gritting rasp.
The
increasing reluctance of the sun to rise, the extra nip in the breeze,
the
patter of shed leaves dropping - all the evidences of fall drifting
into winter
were clearer each day.
Use a
dash only when a more common mark of punctuation seems inadequate.
|
Her father's
suspicions proved well-founded — it was not Edward she cared for — it
was San Francisco
|
Her father's
suspicions proved well- founded. It was not Edward she cared for, it
was San Francisco.
|
|
Violence — the kind
you see on television — is not honestly violent — there lies its harm.
|
Violence, the kind
you see on television, is not honestly violent. There lies its harm.
|
9. The
number of the subject determines the number of the verb.
Words that
intervene between subject and verb do not affect the number of the verb.
|
The bittersweet
flavor of youth — its trials, its joys, its adventures, its challenges
— are not soon forgotten.
|
The bittersweet
flavor of youth — its trials, its joys, its adventures, its challenges
— is not soon forgotten.
|
A common
blunder is the use of a singular verb form in a relative clause
following
"one of..." or a similar expression when the relative is the subject.
|
One of the ablest
scientists who has attacked this problem
|
One of the ablest
scientists who have attacked this problem
|
|
One of those people
who is never ready on time
|
One of those people
who are never ready on time
|
Use a
singular verb form after each, either, everyone, everybody,
neither, nobody,
someone.
Everybody
thinks he has a unique sense of humor.
Although both clocks strike cheerfully, neither
keeps good time.
With none,
use the singular verb when the word means "no one" or "not
one."
None
of us are perfect.
None of us is perfect.
A plural
verb is commonly used when none suggests more than one thing or person.
None
are so fallible as those who are sure they're right.
A compound
subject formed of two or more nouns joined by and almost always requires
a plural
verb.
The
walrus and the carpenter were walking close at hand.
But certain
compounds, often cliches, are so inseparable they are considered a unit
and so
take a singular verb, as do compound subjects qualified by each or
every.
The
long and the short of it is ...
Bread and butter was all she served.
Give and take is essential to a happy household.
Every window, picture, and mirror was smashed.
A singular
subject remains singular even if other nouns are connected to it by with,
as
well as, in addition to, except, together with, and no less than.
His speech as well as his manner is objectionable.
A linking
verb agrees with the number of its subject.