Bryson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words - Bill Bryson [39]
if and when. Almost always unnecessary. Choose one or the other.
ileum, ilium. The ileum is part of the small intestine; the ilium is part of the pelvis and, when capitalized, is also the Latin name for Troy.
imply, infer. “Speaking on ABC-TV’s Good Morning America, Mrs. Bush inferred that Clinton had brought disrespect to the presidency” (Los Angeles Times). According to nearly all authorities, on both sides of the Atlantic, the word there should be implied, not inferred. Imply means to suggest: “He implied that I was a fool.” Infer means to deduce: “After three hours of waiting, we inferred that they weren’t coming.” A speaker implies, a listener infers. The distinction is useful and, in careful writing nowadays, expected. However, there is not a great deal of historical basis for it. Many great writers, among them Milton, Sir Thomas More, Jane Austen, and Shakespeare, freely used infer where we would today insist on imply. Indeed, until as late as 1976, the Concise Oxford Dictionary treated the words as interchangeable. Nonetheless, to use infer where most educated people now expect imply is to invite derision.
important, importantly. “But more importantly, his work was instrumental in eradicating cholera” (Sunday Telegraph). Some authorities condemn importantly with the argument that the sentence contains an ellipsis of thought—that in effect it is saying, “But [what is] more important . . .” Others contend that importantly functions as a sentence adverb, modifying the whole expression, in much the same way as happily does in “Happily, it didn’t rain.” Both points are grammatically defensible, so the choice of which word to use must be entirely a matter of preference.
imports, exports. Here is a common lapse in an unexpected place: “America’s booming economy has sucked in imports from abroad” (Economist). It is of course implicit in imports that their source is foreign, so delete “from abroad.” Similar phrases involving exports, such as “British exports to overseas countries . . . fell slightly again last month” (Guardian), equally cry out for pruning.
impractical, impracticable, unpractical. If a thing could be done but isn’t worth doing, it is impractical or unpractical (the words mean the same). If it can’t be done at all, it’s impracticable (the word means “incapable of being put into practice”).
in, into, in to. Generally, in indicates a fixed position (“she was in the house”) while into indicates movement toward a fixed position (“she went into the house”). There are, however, many exceptions (e.g., “she put the money in her pocket”). As so often with idiom, there is no describable pattern to these exceptions; it is just the way it is.
Whether to write into as one word or two also sometimes causes problems. The simple rule is that in to is correct when in is an adverb, but the distinction can perhaps best be seen in paired examples: “He turned himself into [one word] an accomplished artist” but “The criminal turned himself in to [two words] the police.”
inadmissible. Not -able.
inchoate. Probably because of the similarity in spelling to chaotic and in pronunciation to incoherent, people sometimes take the word to mean disorderly or disorganized. In fact it means incipient, undeveloped, just starting. An inchoate enterprise is likely to be disorganized, but the disorderliness is not what makes it inchoate.
incline. As a verb, incline indicates a conscious decision, as in “They were inclined to go to Greece for the summer.” When happenstance rather than decision is the determining factor, incline is at best a poor choice, as it was here: “Roads are inclined to deteriorate during bad weather” (Daily Telegraph).
include indicates that what is to follow is only part of a greater whole. To use it when you are describing a totality is sloppy, as here: “The 630 job losses include 300 in Redcar and 330 in Port Talbot” (Times).
incomprehensible. Not -able.
inculcate means to persistently impress a habit