Anyone who’s watched Survivor knows the nail-biting excitement of the Tribal Council. In this high-stakes elimination, the rules are simple: The contestant who receives the most votes is sent home. This means that the contestants with the fewest votes stay in the game — or is it the least votes? While these two adjectives may seem interchangeable (and many people use them as such), they have distinct uses, and knowing when to use one over the other can make a big difference.

The key to choosing between “fewest” and “least” lies in what you’re describing. If you’re talking about quantifiable nouns — such as people or items — “fewest” is your go-to choice. On Survivor, the votes are countable, so “fewest votes” is grammatically correct. “Fewest” is the superlative adjective of “few,” used to describe the smallest number of things in a group.

However, “least” also means “smallest.” The difference is in the context: “Least” is a superlative of “little,” referring to the smallest amount, not the smallest number. “Least” is not used with countable nouns. Instead, it’s reserved for mass nouns — plural things that can’t be counted individually, such as happiness, coffee, or snow. You could say, “I’m the least happy on the mornings that I have the least amount of coffee, and the most happy when there’s the least amount of snow.” 

“Fewest” and “least” can be interchangeable — but only if you adjust your phrasing. Consider the coffee example above: “Fewest amount of coffee” doesn’t work because “amount” is not a countable noun. But you could say “fewest cups of coffee,” because “cups” is a countable noun. Similarly, “the least amount of work” or “the fewest hours of work” convey the same basic idea. The choice of adjective depends on whether you’re referring to a mass noun (amount of work) or a countable noun (hours of work).

In Survivor speak: The tribe has spoken and the rules are set. “Fewest” and “least” are not interchangeable, though they have similar qualities. As a rule of thumb, use “fewest” for countable things (such as books, students, or minutes) and “least” for uncountable things (such as health, happiness, or water). Understanding this distinction will help you use both terms correctly and more precisely.

The romantic classic Pride and Prejudice opens with the sentence, “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.” In this line (one of her most famous), author Jane Austen employs an often-underrated grammatical tool: the past participle. Here, “acknowledged” enhances Austen’s storytelling by forming an adjective instead of a verb.

To transform the verb “acknowledge” into a past participle, all Austen needed to do was add the suffix “-ed.” Now, “acknowledged” acts as an adjective, modifying the noun “truth.” Other examples of past participles include “a hushed conversation” and “on borrowed time.” Although these terms might look like simple past tense verbs, they’re called past participles when used in this context as adjectives. 

Most regular past participles are formed this way — by adding “-ed” to a verb. Irregular verbs, however, have less predictable past participles. They take on various suffixes, including “-en,” “-n,” “-ne,” or “-t.” This looks like “shaken confidence” or “a lost letter.”

Past participles don’t just modify nouns — they also form verb tenses. When combined with the auxiliary verb “have,” they create what’s called the perfect verb tense. For example, in Mr. Darcy’s line, “In vain I have struggled,” the past participle “struggled” works with “have” to form the present perfect tense. This tense indicates that the struggle started in the past and is still relevant to the present. More examples of this tense include: “He has graduated” and “She has left.” 

The same formula is used for other perfect verb tenses. For past perfect tense, use “had” instead of “have,” as in, “In vain I had struggled” or “They had waited.” When combined with “not,” past participles form negative perfect tenses, as in Elizabeth Bennet’s reflection: “I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.” Past participles are also used in the less-common future perfect tense, which uses an additional auxiliary verb, “will” — “She will have read the letter by noon.”

Finally, past participles are key in the passive voice, where the subject receives the action rather than performing it. For example, in Mr. Darcy’s revelation, “I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit,” the subject “I” is the recipient of the action, not the doer. To create the passive voice, use a conjugation of the verb “be” along with a past participle, as in, “The pages of the novel were torn.”

In short, past participles are an incredibly useful construction that we can find sprinkled throughout both literature and everyday speech. Whether transforming verbs into descriptive adjectives or creating clarity in complex tenses, their versatility and precision are crucial to storytelling, from grammar class to Jane Austen’s novels.

If you grew up speaking English as your first language, there are likely many things that just sound right. A question is delivered with a higher tone at the end to make it sound inquisitive. Excitement is portrayed with loud and fast voices. Other elements, such as the order in which words are delivered, are dictated by specific grammar rules that you might not even be aware of. Here are four little-known grammar rules you probably don’t think about much — until someone uses them the wrong way.

If someone told you they bought a “red shiny big bicycle,” you would understand what they meant, but you might not be able to shake the feeling that their description was a little bit off. That’s because adjectives are almost always listed in a particular order:

• Quantity: one, many, a few
• Opinion/Quality: beautiful, good, sweet
• Size: big, little, short
• Age: old, youthful, antique
• Shape: heart-shaped, round, spiral
• Color: green, blue, dark
• Origin/Material: American, wooden, leather
• Qualifier: buttoned, sports, gardening

Following this order, the correct version of the example above is “big red shiny bicycle” — doesn’t that flow better? Interestingly, native speakers don’t usually need to be taught the accepted order of adjectives. When people grow up absorbed in a certain language, they pick up the flow of language patterns. So when we hear a list of adjectives spoken, they sound either “right” or “wrong,” and our ears will often tell us the correct things to say or write.

“Whom” is fancy and “who” is regular — right? While a lot of people think that’s the case, there’s actually a grammar rule behind when to use “who” vs. “whom.” There’s nuance to this issue, but “who” and “whom” are both pronouns. “Who” is used to refer to the subject of a sentence, and “whom” refers to the object of a verb or preposition in a sentence.

An easy trick to understanding which word to use is to answer the question using other pronouns. If “he,” “she,” or “they” works in the sentence, then “who” is the correct form.

Who is going to the fair? → He is going.

Who wants to know? → She wants to know.

If you can answer the question using “him” or “her,” then you’re dealing with object pronouns, and “whom” is the correct form.

Whom should I go out with? → You should go out with her.

Whom does the car belong to? → The car belongs to him.

For a mnemonic device, put aside the true context of the question and use “him” — if it sounds correct, then the “m” in “him” matches up to the “m” in “whom.”

Ablaut Reduplication

This complex-sounding term describes a simple phenomenon in linguistics. “Reduplication” refers to repeated words in a compound word or phrase, such as “boo-boo” or “pom-pom.” Ablaut reduplication is when the vowel sound in the second syllable is slightly altered. Here are some examples:

• chitchat
• ding-dong
• flip-flop
• hip-hop
• knickknack
• Ping-Pong
• singsong
• ticktock
• zigzag

You’ll notice the first vowel is almost always the high “i” sound, as in the word “hit.” If there are two words in the phrase, the “i” vowel sound will always come first, followed by an “a” or “o” vowel sound. If there are three words in the phrase — for example, “tic-tac-toe” or “bing-bang-boom” — the vowel sequence is “i,” “a,” and then “o.”

Ablaut reduplication almost certainly doesn’t appear on any elementary school tests, but a native English-speaking child likely would know “dong-ding” is a bit odd for the sound of a doorbell. The correct flow is a result of rules we instinctively learn when being raised speaking the language.

Once upon a time, the answer to “How are you doing?” was “I am well” — never “I am good.” This rule is likely still taught in grammar lessons, but it’s less strictly held to in casual conversation. You may even use “good” and “well” interchangeably throughout your life. However, in formal grammar terms, when “good” is used as an adjective, it should be paired with nouns. “Well” is an adverb, so it should be paired only with verbs.

• I’m doing well.
• I can’t see well.
• My dog is a good boy.
• I had a good day.

The distinction between “well” and “good” is often confused with states of being, specifically when paired with the word “feel.” When referring to physical health, use the word “well” (“I have a cough and don’t feel well”). But if you’re discussing your emotions, then “good” is the correct term (“I’m not feeling good about the test today”). In that second example, “good” is not an adjective, so it doesn’t matter that it’s being paired with the verb “feeling.” “Good” is working as a noun, or state of being. How many of these grammar rules did you remember? If you’re being quizzed on them, maybe it’s important to be able to recite the rules, but there are always exceptions. Just make sure you can get your point across.

How do you use an ellipsis? No, not the aerobic exercise machine — that’s an elliptical. And we’re not talking about celestial bodies blocking each other in the sky, either. That’s an eclipse.

Ellipses are those three tiny dots that may appear together at the beginning, middle, or end of a sentence. The formal definition is “the omission from speech or writing of a word or words that are superfluous or able to be understood from contextual clues,” but the punctuation mark has acquired a few more casual usages in modern digital communications. The origin of this curious punctuation mark dates back to the 16th century, though at that time it was written slightly differently. Let’s look at where the ellipsis came from and how you should properly use the “dot dot dot” today.

In the book Ellipsis in English Language, Anne Toner examines the earliest known uses of “…” in English. It may have appeared in a 1588 English translation of the Roman comedy Andria, but in that piece, the ellipsis was written as four hyphens instead of three periods. This marking was used to interrupt a sentence to convey a sense of silence. According to Toner, the ellipsis became quite popular among 16th-century authors, and was used in the works of Shakespeare. Sometime in the early 18th century, the hyphens turned into dots, and by the early 19th century, three dots in succession (…) had become the new standard for how to write an ellipsis.

Now that you know a little more about the history of the ellipsis, here’s how to use it. There’s really only one formal use for an ellipsis: to indicate omitted information. Essentially, you swap out irrelevant details for a “…” to declutter a sentence while still maintaining its original meaning. You can also use an ellipsis to essentially “skip ahead” by cutting out the middle of a quote if you want to connect two separate passages.

For example, Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities has one of the most recognizable introductions in literature, but someone quoting it might want to reference only a selection of it: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times … it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness.” The ellipsis in the middle of the text lets us know we’re missing some words. 

Even with the formal punctuation rules, the ellipsis retains an informal usage related to 16th-century stage direction: Writers use it to convey a sense of hesitation or pause at the beginning, middle, or end of a sentence. An ellipsis at the end of a sentence may seem to trail off instead of ending decisively; this may help establish a feeling of uncertainty or spaciness. This usage has been adopted heavily in digital communications. A text that reads, “I was waiting for you…” implies a tone of exasperation, while “I was waiting for you!” conveys excitement. 

Keep in mind that various style guides have different rules for how to write an ellipsis, so it’s worth checking your preferred style guide for more information. For instance, the AP Stylebook says you should write an ellipsis without any spaces between the individual dots but include a space on either side of the set of three dots ( … ), while the Chicago Manual of Style tells you to put a space between each dot (. . .).