Short Simple Sentences and Fragments

Short Simple Sentences

A simple sentence, strictly defined, has a subject and verb: it consists of one independent clause. A simple sentence may have a compound subject, a compound verb, a modifier, and an object or a complement, but it still is one independent clause.

The following examples of simple sentences appear in Barbara Ehrenreich’s “Serving in Florida.”

There is a problem, though.

But the chances of this are minuscule.

This must be Phillip’s theory, anyway.

Finally she tells me not to take her wrong.

What had I been thinking?

Sometimes simple sentences can be rather long:

The e-mails and phone messages addressed to my former self come from a distant race of people with exotic concerns and far too much time on their hands.

This example from Ehrenreich consists of twenty-eight words.

Sentence Fragments

A sentence fragment is an incomplete sentence, often the result of careless writing; an effective fragment, however, is an incomplete sentence that readers understand to be complete. Some fragments are missing a subject, a verb, or both; other fragments have a subject and verb but are dependent clauses. Consider the fragment in blue from Dubner and Levitt’s “What the Bagel Man Saw.”

Despite all the attention paid to companies like Enron, academics know very little about the practicalities of white-collar crime. The reason? There aren’t enough data.

This fragment, which asks a question, has neither a subject nor a verb. If we added a subject and verb to make it a complete sentence, it might read like this:

Despite all the attention paid to companies like Enron, academics know very little about the practicalities of white-collar crime. And what is the reason for this? There aren’t enough data.

Posing a question is a common use for fragments, but they can also be used to express doubt, surprise, shock, or perhaps outrage, as in this example from Fareed Zakaria:

And in the Great Recession, it has been these middle-class folks who have been hammered. Why?

This one-word fragment, another question, has neither a subject nor a verb. If we added a subject and verb to make it a complete sentence, it might read like this:

And in the Great Recession, it has been these middle-class folks who have been hammered. Why is this the case?

In the following example, Phyllis Rose poses a rhetorical question with a fragment:

When a Solzhenitsyn rants about American materialism, I have to look at my digital Timex and check what year this is. Materialism?

Lest you think that fragments are more common to contemporary than classic writing, consider this example from Thoreau:

When a man is warmed by the several modes which I have described, what does he want next? Surely not more warmth of the same kind, as more and richer food, larger and more splendid houses, finer and more abundant clothing, more numerous incessant and hotter fires, and the like.

Here the fragment is used not to ask, but to answer a rhetorical question. The missing subject, he, and verb, would [not] want, are understood. The fragment creates a sense of impatience that conveys Thoreau’s tone of exasperation.

The following example from John Ruskin shows how fragments can provide both economy of expression and emphasis:

And the duty of all these men is, on due occasion, to die for it.

“On due occasion,” namely:

The Soldier, rather than leave his post in battle.

The Physician, rather than leave his post in plague.

The Pastor, rather than teach Falsehood.

The lawyer, rather than countenance Injustice.

The antecedent of “it” is “every civilized nation.” Rewritten as a complete sentence, the first fragment would read: “The due occasion for the soldier would be to die for his civilized nation rather than leave his post in battle.” And so on for the others. (You will doubtless notice that “And so on for the others” is a fragment that we hope you will agree is deliberately and effectively used.)

Fragments also suggest the rhythm and patterns of natural speech. Read the following sentences from “The Case for Working with Your Hands,” by Matthew B. Crawford, in which Crawford relates Fred’s attempt to fix a starter motor.

He spun the shaft that ran through the center of the motor, as I had. No problem: it spun freely. Then he hooked it up to a battery. It moved ever so slightly but wouldn’t spin. He grasped the shaft, delicately, with three fingers, and tried to wiggle it side to side. “Too much free play,” he said.

The first fragment delivers the natural mental response to the activity; the second one, quoted, delivers Fred’s natural expression. “‘There is too much free play,’ he said,” simply would not ring true.

Using Short Sentences Rhetorically

A series of simple sentences can become monotonous, but one or two short simple sentences can be rhetorically effective in a number of situations:

Essentially, one or two short simple sentences create emphasis by contrast. As a writer, when you juxtapose one or two short simple sentences with several longer ones, you call attention to the short simple ones. Consider this example from Dubner and Levitt:

A key fact of white-collar crime is that we hear about only the very slim fraction of people who are caught. Most embezzlers lead quiet and theoretically happy lives; employees who steal company property are rarely detected. With street crime, meanwhile, that is not the case. A mugging or a burglary or a murder is usually counted whether or not the criminal is caught. A street crime has a victim, who typically reports the crime to the police, which generates data, which in turn generate thousands of academic papers by criminologists, sociologists and economists. But white-collar crime presents no obvious victim. Whom, exactly, did the masters of Enron steal from? And how can you measure something if you don’t know to whom it happened, or with what frequency, or in what magnitude?

Paul F.’s bagel business was different. It did present a victim. The victim was Paul F.

Notice how the short simple sentences of the second paragraph (each structured simply as subject + adjective, subject + direct object, and subject + complement) stand out after the longer sentences of the previous paragraph. Their similar structure adds even more emphasis.

In some instances, writers choose to use sentence fragments, especially short ones. Although most of the time you will avoid fragments, occasionally you might use one for effect. What’s important is that you use the fragment as you would use a short simple sentence—deliberately, for a special reason:

A word of caution, however. Use both short simple sentences and fragments sparingly. Used intentionally and infrequently, both can be effective. Overused, they lose their punch or become more of a gimmick than a valuable technique. Also, consider whether your audience will interpret a fragment as a grammatical error. If you are confident that your audience will recognize your deliberate use of a fragment, then use it. But if you think your instructor or reader will assume you made a mistake, then it’s better to write a complete sentence. Again, if you use fragments infrequently, then your audience is more likely to know you’re deliberately choosing what is technically an incomplete sentence.