For beginners, Korean grammar works by putting the predicate at the end, using particles to label each noun's role, and adding verb endings that express tense, politeness, mood and the speaker's relationship to the listener. This Korean grammar for beginners guide explains Korean sentence structure, Hangul sound changes, speech levels, honourifics, connectors and common learner questions in standard South Korean usage.
Here's something most beginner materials undersell: Korean politeness isn't a tone you layer on afterward, it's baked directly into the verb ending of nearly every sentence you say. You don't finish a sentence and then decide how polite it sounded — the ending itself, chosen before you even speak, sets the register. That's a different kind of real-time decision than English speakers are used to making, and the half-second lag while you pick the right ending is completely normal at the intermediate stage, not a sign you're behind.
Structurally, though, Korean is far friendlier than it looks from the outside. Hangul is a true phonetic alphabet — designed in the 15th century specifically to be learnable in days, not years — and once you know the letters, you can sound out nearly any word, even ones you've never seen before. The grammar underneath is also unusually systematic: a small number of particles, a small number of conjugation patterns, and a manageable list of irregular stems account for the overwhelming majority of what you'll read and hear. This guide walks through all of it in the order that tends to build best: writing and sound first, then sentence structure, then the verb system, then the social layer that sits on top of everything else.
Writing system
Hangul (한글) has 14 basic consonants and 10 basic vowels — 24 letters total — which combine into syllable blocks rather than running left to right like the Latin alphabet. 한 is built from ㅎ + ㅏ + ㄴ stacked into one visual unit representing one syllable, not three separate letters read in sequence. This block structure is exactly what makes Hangul fast to learn: once you recognise the shapes of the 24 basic letters (plus a handful of double consonants and compound vowels), decoding any new block is mechanical, not a fresh memorisation task the way learning a new Chinese character would be. If you can read this paragraph's Korean examples out loud within your first couple of weeks of study, that's completely on pace — reading Hangul is not the hard part of Korean.
| Letter | Romanization | Sound notes |
|---|---|---|
| ㄱ | g/k | Soft "g" initially, harder "k" at the end of a syllable (batchim) |
| ㄴ | n | As in English "n" |
| ㄷ | d/t | Soft "d" initially, "t" as batchim |
| ㄹ | r/l | Flapped "r" between vowels, "l" as batchim or before a consonant |
| ㅁ | m | As in English "m" |
| ㅂ | b/p | Soft "b" initially, "p" as batchim |
| ㅅ | s | Becomes "t" as batchim (unreleased) |
| ㅇ | (silent) / ng | Silent as an initial (placeholder for a vowel-only syllable), "ng" as batchim |
| ㅈ | j | As in English "j," slightly softer |
| ㅊ | ch | Aspirated "ch," a stronger puff of air than ㅈ |
| ㅋ | k | Aspirated "k," strong puff of air |
| ㅌ | t | Aspirated "t," strong puff of air |
| ㅍ | p | Aspirated "p," strong puff of air |
| ㅎ | h | As in English "h" |
Five of these double up into tensed consonants (된소리): ㄲ, ㄸ, ㅃ, ㅆ, ㅉ. These are pronounced with tighter, more tense articulation and no aspiration — the classic minimal pair is 불 (fire) vs. 뿔 (horn) vs. 풀 (grass), three completely different words distinguished only by whether the initial consonant is plain, tensed, or aspirated. English doesn't make this three-way distinction, so training your ear and mouth to hear and produce the tensed set is one of the genuine early-stage skills in Korean pronunciation — not a sign you're doing something wrong if it takes deliberate listening practice.
| Letter | Romanization | Sound notes |
|---|---|---|
| ㅏ | a | As in "father" |
| ㅑ | ya | "y" + ㅏ |
| ㅓ | eo | Like "u" in "up," no direct English equivalent |
| ㅕ | yeo | "y" + ㅓ |
| ㅗ | o | As in "go" |
| ㅛ | yo | "y" + ㅗ |
| ㅜ | u | As in "moon" |
| ㅠ | yu | "y" + ㅜ |
| ㅡ | eu | Unrounded "oo," pull lips back not forward — no English equivalent |
| ㅣ | i | As in "machine" |
These combine into compound vowels — ㅐ (ae, like "e" in "bet"), ㅔ (e, very close to ㅐ in modern speech, most young speakers don't distinguish them anymore), ㅘ (wa), ㅝ (wo), ㅟ (wi), ㅢ (ui), and others. A syllable block always needs at least one consonant slot (ㅇ fills it silently when the syllable is vowel-initial) plus a vowel, and optionally a batchim underneath.
Batchim (받침, "support") is the consonant sound written at the bottom of a Hangul syllable block, and whether a syllable has one — and which one — determines which grammatical particle attaches to it. This single rule trips up nearly every beginner at first, because it means you can't memorise one particle per grammatical role; you memorise a pair, and choose based on the last sound of the word before it.
| Role | After batchim (consonant-final) | After no batchim (vowel-final) |
|---|---|---|
| Topic marker | 은 — 학생은 (as for the student) | 는 — 저는 (as for me) |
| Subject marker | 이 — 밥이 (the rice, as subject) | 가 — 친구가 (the friend, as subject) |
| Object marker | 을 — 책을 (the book, as object) | 를 — 커피를 (the coffee, as object) |
| Direction/tool marker | 으로 — 손으로 (with the hand) | 로 — 학교로 (to school) |
Only seven consonant sounds can actually surface as batchim in pronunciation, even though many more letters can be written there: ㄱ, ㄴ, ㄷ, ㄹ, ㅁ, ㅂ, ㅇ. Written batchim like ㅍ, ㅋ, ㅌ, ㅅ, ㅆ, ㅈ, ㅊ, ㅎ all collapse into one of those seven sounds when pronounced alone (ㅍ→ㅂ, ㅋ→ㄱ, ㅌ/ㅅ/ㅆ/ㅈ/ㅊ/ㅎ→ㄷ), which is part of why spelling and pronunciation can diverge and why dictation practice matters even after you've learned to read fluently.
When a syllable ending in a consonant is followed by a syllable starting with the silent ㅇ (i.e., a vowel), that final consonant slides forward and becomes the initial sound of the next syllable. 한국어 (Korean language) is pronounced han-gu-geo, with the ㄱ of 국 linking into 어, not spoken as three cleanly separate blocks han-guk-eo. 옷이 (the clothes, as subject) is pronounced o-si, not ot-i. This is exactly the kind of rule that makes native speech feel like it's running together faster than reading would predict — the words genuinely are linking by design, not because the speaker is talking unusually quickly. Once you internalise sound-linking, listening comprehension takes a real jump, because you stop expecting each written syllable to have its own clean boundary.
Certain batchim consonants change their pronunciation to match a neighbouring consonant. The most common pattern is nasal assimilation: when ㄱ, ㄷ, or ㅂ batchim is followed by ㄴ or ㅁ, the batchim becomes a nasal sound (ㄱ→ㅇ, ㄷ→ㄴ, ㅂ→ㅁ). 국민 (citizen) is pronounced gung-min, not guk-min — the ㄱ batchim of 국 shifts to ㅇ because it's followed by the ㅁ of 민. 십년 (ten years) is pronounced sim-nyeon. There's also lateralisation, where ㄴ and ㄹ next to each other both become ㄹ: 신라 (Silla, the ancient kingdom) is pronounced sil-la, not sin-ra. These rules aren't optional stylistic choices — they're required pronunciation, and native speakers apply them automatically without thinking about the underlying spelling.
When a syllable ends in one of the batchim sounds ㄱ, ㄷ, or ㅂ and is followed by a syllable starting with ㄱ, ㄷ, ㅂ, ㅅ, or ㅈ, that following consonant tenses — it's pronounced as its tensed counterpart (ㄲ, ㄸ, ㅃ, ㅆ, ㅉ) even though it's written as the plain consonant. 학교 (school) is pronounced hak-kkyo, not hak-gyo — the ㄱ of 교 tenses to ㄲ because it follows the ㄱ batchim of 학. 식당 (restaurant) is pronounced sik-ttang. This rule also appears constantly inside verb conjugation, which is one reason conjugated forms can sound different from what a strict letter-by-letter reading would suggest — 먹다 (to eat, dictionary form) is pronounced meok-tta, tensing the ㄷ of 다.
When ㅎ sits next to ㄱ, ㄷ, ㅂ, or ㅈ (in either order), the two combine into the aspirated consonant (ㅋ, ㅌ, ㅍ, ㅊ). 좋다 (to be good) is pronounced jo-ta, with the ㅎ batchim of 좋 combining with the ㄷ of 다 to make ㅌ. 축하 (congratulations) is pronounced chu-ka, combining the ㄱ batchim of 축 with the ㅎ of 하. This is one of the most common sources of "why doesn't this word sound like it's spelt" confusion for learners reading aloud for the first time, and it's completely regular once you know the rule — it isn't an exception, it's a pattern that applies every time those sounds meet.
Sentence structure
If you're coming from English, the single biggest structural adjustment in Korean is holding the verb until the very end of the sentence — and then, often, dropping half the nouns that would normally come before it. That combination can make early listening feel like you're waiting for a punchline that never quite lands where you expect. It does land; it's just always at the end, and your ear adjusts to that placement faster than it feels like it will in the first month.
Korean is a subject-object-verb (SOV) language, the same underlying order as Japanese, with the verb fixed at the end of the clause and particles marking each noun's grammatical role so that word order itself can flex around that anchor.
Because particles — not position — carry the grammatical information, Korean word order is considerably more flexible than English word order in the middle of the sentence. What's not flexible is the verb's position: it is always the last element of its clause, with only a small set of sentence-final particles (다루는 요/죠/네요, covered later) able to trail after it.
Korean is a pro-drop language: any noun phrase that's recoverable from context — most often the subject, frequently the object too — is simply omitted rather than replaced with a pronoun. A natural exchange might go:
Restating 저는 (as for me) or 그것을 (that thing) in every sentence, the way English restates "I" and "it," sounds unnaturally over-explicit in Korean — closer to how it would sound in English if someone kept re-stating the subject of every sentence in a paragraph where it was already completely obvious. This is one of the genuine "unlearning" tasks for English speakers: the instinct to supply a subject every time has to be actively suppressed, not just supplemented with new vocabulary.
Adjectives, relative clauses, and possessives all come before the noun they describe, with no exception — there's no post-nominal modification pattern in Korean the way English sometimes allows ("the book on the table"). 큰 집 (a big house), 제 친구 (my friend), and 어제 만난 사람 (the person [I] met yesterday) all put the modifying material first and the head noun last. This ordering, combined with the verb-final rule, means Korean sentences build up like a set of nested boxes that only resolve once you reach the very end — a full grammatical structure closes only when the final verb ending appears.
Question words (누가, 뭐, 언제, 어디, 왜, 어떻게) sit in the same position the answer would occupy — Korean doesn't front question words to the start of the sentence the way English moves "what" or "who" to the front. 뭐 먹어요? (What do you eat?) keeps 뭐 exactly where 사과를 (apple) would sit in a statement. Time expressions typically come early in the sentence, often right after the subject/topic: 저는 어제 학교에 갔어요 (I went to school yesterday) places 어제 (yesterday) right after 저는. Negation words (안, 못) sit immediately before the verb they negate, which is covered in full in the Negation section below.
Nouns
If particles feel like the hard part of Korean nouns, it's worth pausing to notice everything Korean nouns don't make you track, because English grammar classes rarely point this out directly and it's a genuine relief once named. There's no "a/an/the" to choose between, no grammatical gender to memorise alongside each noun, and no requirement to mark a noun as plural just because English would. Korean nouns are, in a real sense, the simplest part of speech in the language — nearly all of the complexity you're building sits in the particles and verb endings around them, not in the nouns themselves.
사과 can mean "an apple," "the apple," or simply "apple(s)" as a concept, entirely depending on context — there's no article to attach and no grammatical slot reserved for one. 사과를 먹었어요 (ate an/the apple) doesn't specify definiteness at all; if it matters, Korean reaches for a demonstrative (이/그/저, see Pronouns) to specify "this apple" or "that apple," or simply leaves it to context the way a lot of natural English speech already does informally ("pass the salt" vs. "I like apples," where "the" and its absence both work without confusion).
Korean nouns carry no gender class at all — no equivalent of Spanish's el/la or German's der/die/das to memorise alongside vocabulary. Pronouns for people can imply gender (그 vs. 그녀, loosely "he" vs. "she," though 그녀 is rare in speech as covered in Pronouns), but ordinary nouns for objects, places, and abstract concepts have no gender marking whatsoever, and neither articles nor adjectives ever change form to agree with a noun's gender the way they would in many European languages.
The plural suffix 들 exists and can attach to a noun to explicitly mark plurality, but unlike English "-s," it's frequently omitted whenever plurality is already obvious from context (a number, a quantity word, or simply the situation making "more than one" clear).
A rough working rule: attach 들 when you want to draw explicit attention to multiple, unspecified individuals or things acting distinctly (사람들, 학생들, 친구들 — all extremely common with 들), and skip it when a number, counter, or the context already nails down the quantity, or when the noun functions more like a mass/abstract concept than a countable set of individuals.
Korean vocabulary sits on two main layers that affect how nouns combine: native Korean words (고유어) and Sino-Korean words (한자어, historically borrowed from Chinese, still written in Hangul today rather than Chinese characters in modern usage). Many concepts have both a native and a Sino-Korean word, with the Sino-Korean version often sounding more formal, technical, or bookish, and the native version sounding warmer or more everyday — similar to how English sometimes has a plain Anglo-Saxon word and a fancier Latinate synonym side by side ("ask" vs. "inquire").
| Concept | Native Korean | Sino-Korean |
|---|---|---|
| Year (age-counting) | 해 | 년 |
| Month | 달 | 월 |
| Mind/heart | 마음 | 심 (as in 심장, heart the organ) |
| Water | 물 | 수 (as in 수영, swimming) |
This native/Sino-Korean split is also exactly why the two number systems exist side by side — Sino-Korean numbers came into the language attached to this same borrowed vocabulary layer, while native numbers stayed with the original Korean counting system, and both are still fully productive today rather than one having replaced the other.
Particles
Particles are the single highest-leverage grammar topic in Korean, because they do the job English does with word order and prepositions combined — they tell you who's doing the action, what's being acted on, where something happens, and how the parts of a sentence relate to each other. Nearly every particle attaches directly to the end of the noun with no space, and the correct form depends on batchim as much as it depends on grammatical role. Below is every particle a learner needs from the beginning through advanced study, with the batchim-based choice spelt out for each.
은 (after batchim) and 는 (after no batchim) mark the topic of the sentence — what the sentence is about — and frequently carry a sense of contrast or "as for X" when set against something else.
이 (after batchim) and 가 (after no batchim) mark the grammatical subject, and typically introduce new information or put emphasis on who or what is doing something, rather than making a general statement about the topic.
| Sentence | Literal sense | When you'd use it |
|---|---|---|
| 제가 학생이에요. | I (specifically, of the people we could be discussing) am a student. | Answering "who is a student?" or introducing yourself as new information |
| 저는 학생이에요. | As for me, I'm a student. | Introducing yourself, stating a general fact about yourself as the topic |
A useful rule of thumb: 이/가 answers "who/what," while 은/는 answers "what about X?" This distinction takes real time to feel natural — even upper-intermediate learners second-guess it sometimes, and that hesitation is a completely normal part of building an ear for topic vs. subject, not a sign the rule hasn't "clicked" yet.
을 (after batchim) and 를 (after no batchim) mark the direct object of a transitive verb.
을/를 is also used with certain motion verbs to mean "through/around," a pattern that surprises learners expecting 을/를 to always mean a direct object: 공원을 걸어요 (I walk through/around the park), 하늘을 날아요 (it flies through the sky).
에 and 에서 both translate loosely to English "at/in/to," but they split a distinction English doesn't make: 에 marks a static location or a destination/point in time, while 에서 marks the location where an action takes place.
| Particle | Use | Example |
|---|---|---|
| 에 | Existence/location with 있다/없다 | 집에 있어요. — (I) am at home. |
| 에 | Destination with motion verbs | 학교에 가요. — (I) go to school. |
| 에 | Point in time | 3시에 만나요. — (Let's) meet at 3 o'clock. |
| 에서 | Location of an action | 학교에서 공부해요. — (I) study at school. |
| 에서 | Starting point ("from") | 서울에서 왔어요. — (I) came from Seoul. |
The classic contrast pair is 학교에 가요 (going to school — 에 marks the destination) against 학교에서 공부해요 (studying at school — 에서 marks where the studying happens). If the verb describes an action happening somewhere, reach for 에서; if it describes existing somewhere or arriving somewhere, reach for 에.
로 (after a vowel or ㄹ batchim) and 으로 (after any other batchim) mark direction, the tool or means used to do something, or a change of state.
Note the batchim exception: words ending in ㄹ batchim take 로, not 으로, even though they end in a consonant — 지하철로 가요 (go by subway), not 지하철으로.
Korean has two "and/with" particle pairs for joining nouns, plus a separate word for joining clauses (covered in Connective endings).
| Form | Register | Example |
|---|---|---|
| 와 (after vowel) / 과 (after batchim) | Written, more formal | 사과와 바나나를 샀어요. — (I) bought apples and bananas. |
| 하고 | Spoken, casual, attaches the same way regardless of batchim | 사과하고 바나나를 샀어요. — (I) bought apples and bananas. |
| 랑 (after vowel) / 이랑 (after batchim) | Very casual, spoken | 친구랑 놀아요. — (I) hang out with a friend. |
All three sets can also mean "with" depending on context: 친구와 이야기해요 (talk with a friend), 친구하고 이야기해요, 친구랑 이야기해요 — same meaning, sliding from more formal/written (와/과) to casual/spoken (하고, then 랑).
도 replaces 은/는, 이/가, or 을/를 entirely (it doesn't stack with them) and adds the meaning "also/too," or "even" in a negative/surprising context.
만 also replaces 은/는, 이/가, and 을/를 and narrows the scope of the sentence to exactly the marked noun.
부터 marks a starting point (time or sequence) and 까지 marks an ending point; they're frequently paired together in the same sentence.
Where 까지 marks a temporal or sequential endpoint, physical destination is still normally 에 or 까지 depending on whether you mean "arriving there" (에) or "all the way up to there" (까지, with an emphasis on the extent of the distance).
의 marks possession and roughly corresponds to English "'s" or "of." In casual speech it's very frequently dropped, or contracted in pronunciation towards "에" — 제 친구 (my friend) is far more common in speech than 저의 친구, even though 저의 is the "full" written form.
에게 and 한테 both mean "to" or "from" when the recipient is a person or animal (not a place — that's 에), with 한테 being the more casual, spoken form and 에게 leaning more written/formal. 께 is the honourific version, used when the recipient is someone you owe respect to.
에게서/한테서 add 서 to mean "from (a person)" specifically: 친구한테서 선물을 받았어요 (I received a gift from a friend).
보다 marks the thing being compared against, functioning like English "than." It's covered in full with comparative sentence patterns in Comparatives and superlatives.
처럼 and 같이 both mean "like" or "similar to," attaching directly to a noun.
(같이 is also, separately, an adverb meaning "together" — 같이 가요, "let's go together" — so context decides which sense applies.)
| Particle | Batchim form | No-batchim form | Meaning |
|---|---|---|---|
| Topic | 은 | 는 | as for X / contrast |
| Subject | 이 | 가 | marks the doer, introduces new info |
| Object | 을 | 를 | marks the direct object |
| Direction/tool | 으로 | 로 (also after ㄹ batchim) | towards, by means of, as/into |
| And/with | 과 | 와 | joins nouns, more formal |
| To a person | 에게/한테 | 에게/한테 (same form) | to/from a person |
Particles that don't change with batchim: 에, 에서, 도, 만, 부터, 까지, 의, 께, 보다, 처럼, 하고, 랑/이랑 (이랑 does change: 이랑 after batchim, 랑 after a vowel).
Pronouns
English pronouns feel neutral — "you," "I," "he" carry no social weight on their own. Korean pronouns aren't neutral in the same way: several of them are marked for formality or can sound distant, rude, or overly intimate depending on who you're talking to, which is exactly why so many Korean sentences drop the pronoun rather than risk picking the wrong one. Learning when not to use a pronoun is as much a real grammar skill here as learning the pronouns themselves.
| Form | Register | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| 저 | Polite/formal, all contexts with strangers or seniors | The safe default; also becomes 제 before 가 (제가) and 의 (제) |
| 나 | Casual, with close friends/juniors | Becomes 내 before 가 (내가) and 의 (내) |
| 저희 | Polite "we/our," humbling the group relative to the listener | Used for "our company," "our team" even when speaking casually otherwise about other things |
| 우리 | Casual "we/our" | Extremely common even in fairly polite speech for "our" (우리나라 = "our country," used constantly regardless of formality) |
This is the single biggest surprise for English speakers: there is no all-purpose, safe word for "you" in Korean the way "you" works in English. 너 exists but is casual/intimate, appropriate only with close friends, children, or people clearly younger than you — using it with a stranger or a senior would sound rude or presumptuous. 당신 technically means "you" but in real usage is mostly reserved for addressing a spouse, appearing in song lyrics/writing, or (used the wrong way) can sound confrontational, almost like "who do you think you are."
What Korean actually does instead is: (1) drop the second-person pronoun entirely and rely on context and verb endings, (2) use the person's name + 씨 (Ji-min 씨), (3) use their title or role (선생님 for a teacher, 사장님 for a boss/owner, 형/누나/오빠/언니 for older friends/siblings depending on your gender), or (4) for family, use the kinship term directly (어머니, 아버지) even when speaking to that person, not just about them.
If you're not sure what to call someone, dropping the pronoun and relying on the verb ending's built-in politeness is always safer than guessing at 너 or 당신 — this is a completely normal beginner-to-intermediate strategy, not a workaround you'll need to grow out of.
그 (that), 그녀 (she — used almost exclusively in writing/literature, rare in spoken Korean), and 그 사람 (that person, the natural spoken way to say "he/she") cover third person. 그것 (that thing) covers "it." As with first and second person, real conversation prefers naming the person directly or using their role/title rather than reaching for a pronoun at all once they've been introduced into the conversation.
| Near speaker | Near listener | Far from both |
|---|---|---|
| 이 (this) | 그 (that) | 저 (that, over there) |
| 이것 (this thing) | 그것 (that thing) | 저것 (that thing, over there) |
| 여기 (here) | 거기 (there) | 저기 (over there) |
Korean's three-way system (이/그/저) is one step more granular than English's two-way "this/that" — 그 specifically marks something near the listener or something already mentioned in the conversation, distinct from 저, which marks something visibly distant from both speaker and listener. English collapses both into "that," so this is a genuine new distinction to build, not just new vocabulary for an existing category.
Numbers
Korean runs two complete, parallel number systems side by side, and — unlike most of the rest of the grammar, which is one consistent system you apply everywhere — which number system you use depends entirely on what you're counting. This is genuinely one of the more memorisation-heavy corners of Korean grammar, and mixing the two systems up (saying a Sino-Korean number where a native one belongs) is one of the most common markers of a learner still building fluency, so it's worth deliberate practice rather than assuming it'll sort itself out from exposure alone.
Borrowed originally from Chinese, used for dates, money, phone numbers, minutes, addresses, and counting above 100 in general.
| Number | Korean | Number | Korean |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 일 | 10 | 십 |
| 2 | 이 | 20 | 이십 |
| 3 | 삼 | 30 | 삼십 |
| 4 | 사 | 100 | 백 |
| 5 | 오 | 1,000 | 천 |
| 6 | 육 | 10,000 | 만 |
| 7 | 칠 | 100,000 | 십만 |
| 8 | 팔 | 1,000,000 | 백만 |
| 9 | 구 | 100,000,000 | 억 |
| 0 | 영/공 | 1,000,000,000 | 십억 |
Compound numbers build the same way Chinese-derived numeral systems typically do: 이십삼 (23 = 2-10-3), 삼백사십오 (345 = 3-100-4-10-5). Note that Korean groups large numbers by 10,000 (만), not 1,000 the way English does — 오만 (50,000) is literally "5-ten-thousand," and this grouping difference is exactly why converting large Korean numbers into English on the fly takes real practice even at an advanced level; it's a genuinely different mental grouping, not just new vocabulary.
Used for counting objects, people, hours (on a clock), and age with a counter word (see Counters below). The native system only goes cleanly up to 99 in everyday use — Sino-Korean numbers take over for 100 and beyond even in native-number contexts.
| Number | Korean | Number | Korean |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 하나 (한 before a counter) | 10 | 열 |
| 2 | 둘 (두 before a counter) | 20 | 스물 (스무 before a counter) |
| 3 | 셋 (세 before a counter) | 30 | 서른 |
| 4 | 넷 (네 before a counter) | 40 | 마흔 |
| 5 | 다섯 | 50 | 쉰 |
| 6 | 여섯 | 60 | 예순 |
| 7 | 일곱 | 70 | 일흔 |
| 8 | 여덟 | 80 | 여든 |
| 9 | 아홉 | 90 | 아흔 |
| 10 | 열 | 99 | 아흔아홉 |
The bracketed forms (한, 두, 세, 네, 스무) are the shapes 1–4 and 20 take specifically when they sit directly in front of a counter word, and they're required, not optional stylistic variants: 사람 한 명 (one person), 커피 두 잔 (two coffees), 스무 살 (twenty years old) — never 하나 명 or 이십 살 in that position.
| Context | System | Example |
|---|---|---|
| Hour (o'clock) | Native | 세 시 — 3 o'clock (native 셋 → 세) |
| Minutes | Sino-Korean | 삼십 분 — 30 minutes |
| Age (casual) | Native + 살 | 스무 살 — 20 years old |
| Age (formal/written) | Sino-Korean + 세 | 이십 세 — 20 years old |
| Date (month/day) | Sino-Korean | 칠월 오일 — 5 July |
| Money | Sino-Korean | 오천 원 — 5,000 won |
| Phone number | Sino-Korean (digit by digit) | 공일공 — 010 (read as individual digits) |
| Counting objects/people | Native (up to 99) + counter | 사과 세 개 — three apples |
The clock is the pattern most learners memorise first because it uses both systems in one phrase: 세 시 삼십 분 (3:30) is native for the hour, Sino-Korean for the minutes — not a mistake, that's simply the correct, required split.
Counters
Korean, like Japanese and Chinese, requires a counter word (a classifier) between a number and the noun being counted — you can't just say "three apples" the way English does; the structure is closer to "apple three [counter-for-round-objects]." Which counter you need depends on the category of the thing being counted, and building a working set of the common ones is one of the concrete vocabulary-plus-grammar tasks that pays off across every conversation about quantity.
| Counter | Used for | Example |
|---|---|---|
| 개 | General objects (the default/catch-all counter) | 사과 세 개 — three apples |
| 명 / 분 (honourific) | People | 학생 두 명 — two students; 손님 두 분 — two guests (respectful) |
| 살 / 세 (formal) | Age, in years | 다섯 살 — five years old |
| 마리 | Animals | 강아지 한 마리 — one puppy |
| 권 | Bound volumes (books, notebooks) | 책 세 권 — three books |
| 장 | Flat/thin objects (paper, tickets, photos) | 티켓 두 장 — two tickets |
| 잔 | Cups/glasses of liquid | 커피 한 잔 — one cup of coffee |
| 병 | Bottles | 맥주 두 병 — two bottles of beer |
| 대 | Machines/vehicles (cars, phones, computers) | 자동차 한 대 — one car |
| 번 | Number of times (occurrences) | 세 번 — three times |
| 시간 | Duration in hours | 두 시간 — two hours (long), contrast with 두 시 = 2 o'clock |
| 층 | Floors of a building | 삼 층 — third floor (Sino-Korean, an exception among counters) |
| 켤레 | Pairs (shoes, socks) | 신발 한 켤레 — one pair of shoes |
| 그릇 | Bowls of food | 밥 한 그릇 — one bowl of rice |
Standard word order for counting is noun + number + counter (사과 세 개, not 세 개 사과), and the number is almost always the native form (하나/둘/셋…) except for a handful of counters like 층 (floor) and 분 (minute) that always take Sino-Korean numbers regardless of context. When you don't know the specific counter for something, 개 is a safe general fallback for physical objects — native speakers will understand you even if a more specific counter technically exists, and reaching for the right rare counter is a refinement you build over time, not a prerequisite for being understood.
Speech levels
Traditional grammars of Korean describe seven distinct speech levels, and seeing that number for the first time is genuinely intimidating — it sounds like seven separate grammars to memorise. The reality is much more manageable: modern spoken Korean leans on three of the seven almost exclusively, two more survive mostly in historical dramas and religious/literary contexts, and the last two occupy a narrow middle ground you'll recognise passively long before you need to produce them. Below is the full traditional set, followed by which three actually carry your day-to-day conversations.
| # | Level (Korean name) | Ending example (가다, "to go") | Where you'll meet it |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 하십시오체 (formal high) | 가십니까? / 갑니다 | News broadcasts, military, formal presentations, customer service scripts |
| 2 | 해요체 (polite informal) | 가요? | Everyday conversation with strangers, colleagues, acquaintances — the default |
| 3 | 하오체 (formal, dated) | 가오? | Older/historical Korean, some regional or literary speech; rare today |
| 4 | 하게체 (semi-formal, dated) | 가는가? | Older men addressing younger adults, some literary contexts; rare today |
| 5 | 해라체 (plain, formal-casual) | 가니? / 간다 | Written Korean (narration, textbooks, news headlines), commands to children |
| 6 | 해체 (plain informal / 반말) | 가? | Everyday casual speech with close friends, younger people, family — extremely common |
| 7 | 해체 combined into 반말 conversational use | 가 | Same as #6 in practice; traditional grammars sometimes split this differently |
해요체 and 합니다체 both count as "polite" in the everyday sense of being safe with people you don't know well, but they're not interchangeable registers — 합니다체 sounds crisp, formal, almost broadcast-like even in casual topics, while 해요체 sounds warm and conversational. Most learners are well served spending the bulk of their early practice on 해요체 because it's the one you'll actually produce most; 합니다체 you mostly need to recognise long before you need to produce it fluently, and 반말 you'll pick up naturally once you have Korean-speaking friends close to your own age or younger.
It's completely normal, and expected, for two people to start a relationship in 해요체 and shift to 반말 once they become close — this shift is usually explicit and negotiated ("우리 반말할까요?" — "should we speak casually?") rather than assumed. Shifting to 반말 without that mutual agreement, especially towards someone older or senior to you, can come across as presumptuous. When you're not sure which level is appropriate for a new acquaintance, 해요체 is always a safe starting point you can soften later, never one you'll be criticised for using too much.
Conjugation
Here's the reassuring structural fact underneath Korean conjugation: verbs and adjectives conjugate the same way, using mostly the same endings, because Korean adjectives are technically a subclass of verb ("descriptive verbs") rather than a separate part of speech the way English treats them. Once you internalise that 예쁘다 (to be pretty) conjugates through the same machinery as 가다 (to go), you've cut the amount of new conjugation material roughly in half compared to what it might look like from the outside.
Korean dictionary/citation forms always end in 다: 가다 (to go), 먹다 (to eat), 예쁘다 (to be pretty), 있다 (to exist/have). To conjugate, remove 다 to expose the stem, then attach endings in a fixed order: stem + [honourific 시] + [tense marker] + [politeness/sentence-type ending]. Every conjugated form you'll ever produce follows that same slot order.
Many of the most common endings (the polite 요 ending, past tense, and others) come in two shapes depending on the last vowel of the stem: stems whose last vowel is ㅏ or ㅗ take the "bright/light" 아 form of the ending, and every other stem takes the "dark" 어 form. This single rule governs an enormous share of everyday conjugation, so it's worth internalising early rather than memorising each conjugated word as a separate fact.
| Stem's last vowel | Ending form | Example |
|---|---|---|
| ㅏ or ㅗ ("bright" vowels) | 아 form | 가다 → 가 + 아요 → 가요 (the 아 absorbs into the stem's ㅏ) |
| Any other vowel ("dark" vowels) | 어 form | 먹다 → 먹 + 어요 → 먹어요 |
| 하다 verbs (irregular but extremely common) | 해 form | 공부하다 → 공부해요 (하 + 여 contracts to 해 in every 하다 verb) |
| Dictionary form | Stem | Present (해요체) | Gloss |
|---|---|---|---|
| 가다 (go) | 가 | 가요 | (I/you/etc.) go |
| 먹다 (eat) | 먹 | 먹어요 | (I/you/etc.) eat |
| 보다 (see/watch) | 보 | 봐요 (보 + 아요 contracts) | (I/you/etc.) see/watch |
| 주다 (give) | 주 | 줘요 (주 + 어요 contracts) | (I/you/etc.) give |
| 공부하다 (study) | 공부하 | 공부해요 | (I/you/etc.) study |
| 예쁘다 (be pretty) | 예쁘 | 예뻐요 (으 drops, see irregulars) | (it/she) is pretty |
The formal present attaches ㅂ니다 to a vowel-final stem, or 습니다 to a consonant-final (batchim) stem — no vowel-harmony split here, which makes this ending simpler to apply mechanically than 해요체's 아/어 split.
| Dictionary form | Stem ends in | Formal present | Gloss |
|---|---|---|---|
| 가다 (go) | vowel | 갑니다 | (I/you/etc.) go |
| 먹다 (eat) | batchim (ㄱ) | 먹습니다 | (I/you/etc.) eat |
| 공부하다 (study) | vowel | 공부합니다 | (I/you/etc.) study |
Past tense inserts 았/었 (following the same 아/어 vowel-harmony rule) directly before the final ending, in both 해요체 and 합니다체.
| Dictionary form | Past stem | Past (해요체) | Past (합니다체) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 가다 (go) | 갔 | 갔어요 | 갔습니다 |
| 먹다 (eat) | 먹었 | 먹었어요 | 먹었습니다 |
| 하다 (do) | 했 | 했어요 | 했습니다 |
| 예쁘다 (be pretty) | 예뻤 | 예뻤어요 | 예뻤습니다 |
There's also a past-perfect/remote-past form using 았었/었었 (double past marker) for actions completed further in the past or states that have since changed: 결혼했었어요 (I was married [at one point, implying not anymore], as opposed to 결혼했어요, which just states the marriage happened and may still be true).
| Pattern | Formation | Example | Nuance |
|---|---|---|---|
| -(으)ㄹ 거예요 | stem + (으)ㄹ 거예요 | 갈 거예요 — (I'll) go / (it) will go | General future, plan, or prediction |
| -(으)ㄹ게요 | stem + (으)ㄹ게요 | 갈게요 — I'll go (I promise/decide right now) | Speaker's own decision/promise, only usable for the speaker |
| -겠어요 | stem + 겠어요 | 비가 오겠어요 — It looks like it'll rain | Prediction/inference based on evidence, or formal intention |
-(으)ㄹ 거예요 attaches ㄹ 거예요 directly to a vowel-final stem or ㄹ-batchim stem, and 을 거예요 to any other consonant-final stem: 가다 → 갈 거예요, 먹다 → 먹을 거예요. This (으)ㄹ/을 alternation based on batchim shows up constantly across Korean grammar endings — it's the same batchim-driven choice you already saw with particles, just operating on verb stems instead of nouns.
Because Korean adjectives are descriptive verbs, they take the exact same tense/politeness endings — the only real difference is that most adjectives can't take the plain present-tense 는다/ㄴ다 ending action verbs use in 해라체/written narration (adjectives use -다 instead in that specific slot), and adjectives don't combine with the imperative or propositive endings (you can't grammatically command something to "be pretty" the way you can command someone to "go").
Irregular verbs
"Irregular" makes these sound unpredictable, but every one of Korean's seven irregular stem classes changes shape in a completely consistent, rule-governed way — the irregularity is that the stem itself shifts before certain endings, not that the outcome is random. Once you learn the seven patterns below, you can conjugate any irregular verb correctly on sight, including ones you've never encountered before, because the same stem-shift rule applies to every verb in that class.
When a ㅂ-batchim stem is followed by an ending starting with a vowel (아/어/으), the ㅂ drops and 우 is inserted, which then contracts with the following ending vowel. Two verbs, 돕다 (to help) and 곱다 (to be pretty/fine), use 오 instead of 우 specifically before 아 (an older exception that survives in just these two common words).
| Dictionary form | Present (해요체) | Past | Modifier (-(으)ㄴ) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 춥다 (be cold) | 추워요 | 추웠어요 | 추운 |
| 덥다 (be hot) | 더워요 | 더웠어요 | 더운 |
| 어렵다 (be difficult) | 어려워요 | 어려웠어요 | 어려운 |
| 쉽다 (be easy) | 쉬워요 | 쉬웠어요 | 쉬운 |
| 돕다 (help) — the 오 exception | 도와요 | 도왔어요 | 돕는 (action verb, uses -는 not -(으)ㄴ) |
Not every ㅂ-batchim verb is irregular — 입다 (to wear) and 잡다 (to catch/hold) are perfectly regular: 입어요, 잡아요, no ㅂ-dropping. There's no shortcut for knowing which ㅂ verbs are irregular besides learning them as you meet them, but the irregular ones are disproportionately common, everyday words, so exposure covers this quickly.
When a ㄷ-batchim stem is followed by a vowel-initial ending, the ㄷ changes to ㄹ.
| Dictionary form | Present (해요체) | Past | Note |
|---|---|---|---|
| 듣다 (listen/hear) | 들어요 | 들었어요 | ㄷ→ㄹ before a vowel |
| 걷다 (walk) | 걸어요 | 걸었어요 | ㄷ→ㄹ before a vowel |
| 묻다 (ask) — irregular sense only | 물어요 | 물었어요 | 묻다 meaning "to bury" is regular; "to ask" is irregular — same spelling, different behaviour |
| 받다 (receive) — regular, contrast case | 받아요 | 받았어요 | Not irregular — ㄷ stays ㄷ; shows not all ㄷ-batchim verbs shift |
When a ㅅ-batchim stem meets a vowel-initial ending, the ㅅ disappears without leaving any trace consonant behind.
| Dictionary form | Present (해요체) | Past |
|---|---|---|
| 짓다 (build/make) | 지어요 | 지었어요 |
| 낫다 (recover/get better) | 나아요 | 나았어요 |
| 붓다 (pour) — irregular sense | 부어요 | 부었어요 |
| 웃다 (laugh) — regular, contrast case | 웃어요 | 웃었어요 |
| 벗다 (take off) — regular, contrast case | 벗어요 | 벗었어요 |
When a stem ending in 르 is followed by an 아/어 ending, the ㅡ of 르 drops and an extra ㄹ batchim is added to the syllable before it, producing a doubled ㄹㄹ. This is one of the highest-frequency irregular patterns because so many common verbs end in 르.
| Dictionary form | Present (해요체) | Past |
|---|---|---|
| 모르다 (not know) | 몰라요 | 몰랐어요 |
| 빠르다 (be fast) | 빨라요 | 빨랐어요 |
| 부르다 (call/sing) | 불러요 | 불렀어요 |
| 다르다 (be different) | 달라요 | 달랐어요 |
| 고르다 (choose) | 골라요 | 골랐어요 |
Any stem ending in the vowel ㅡ (with no batchim) drops that ㅡ before an 아/어 ending, and vowel harmony is then judged by the vowel before the dropped ㅡ.
| Dictionary form | Present (해요체) | Past | Why 아 or 어 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 쓰다 (write/use) | 써요 | 썼어요 | No vowel before ㅡ (single syllable) → defaults to 어 |
| 크다 (be big) | 커요 | 컸어요 | Same as above → 어 |
| 바쁘다 (be busy) | 바빠요 | 바빴어요 | Preceding vowel is ㅏ (bright) → 아 |
| 예쁘다 (be pretty) | 예뻐요 | 예뻤어요 | Preceding vowel is ㅔ (dark) → 어 |
| 슬프다 (be sad) | 슬퍼요 | 슬펐어요 | Preceding vowel is ㅡ/ㅜ-adjacent (dark) → 어 |
Restricted almost entirely to descriptive-verb (adjective) stems ending in ㅎ-batchim, most of them colour words. Before 아/어 endings, the ㅎ drops and the stem's vowel commonly shifts to ㅐ or ㅔ, contracting with the ending.
| Dictionary form | Present (해요체) | Modifier (-(으)ㄴ) |
|---|---|---|
| 빨갛다 (be red) | 빨개요 | 빨간 |
| 노랗다 (be yellow) | 노래요 | 노란 |
| 파랗다 (be blue) | 파래요 | 파란 |
| 하얗다 (be white) | 하얘요 | 하얀 |
| 이렇다 (be like this) | 이래요 | 이런 |
| 좋다 (be good) — regular, contrast case | 좋아요 | 좋은 |
좋다 is the one everyday ㅎ-batchim word that stays fully regular — it's worth memorising as the exception specifically because it's so frequent, and mixing it up with the irregular colour-word pattern is a very common early mistake.
Stems ending in ㄹ-batchim drop that ㄹ whenever the following ending begins with ㄴ, ㅂ, ㅅ, or 으 — this includes the formal present ending (ㅂ니다), the subject honourific 시, and several modifier endings.
| Dictionary form | 합니다체 (ㄹ drops before ㅂ) | Modifier -(으)ㄴ (ㄹ drops before ㄴ) | Present (해요체, ㄹ stays) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 살다 (live) | 삽니다 | 산 (사람) — the person who lives (there) | 살아요 |
| 만들다 (make) | 만듭니다 | 만든 (것) — the thing (someone) made | 만들어요 |
| 알다 (know) | 압니다 | 아는 (present modifier — 는, not 은, since 알다 is an action verb here) | 알아요 |
| 놀다 (play) | 놉니다 | 논 (놀다 → 노 + ㄴ) | 놀아요 |
Unlike the other six irregular classes, ㄹ-irregular verbs are entirely predictable and have zero exceptions — every single ㄹ-batchim verb behaves this way, with no verb that "looks ㄹ-irregular but isn't." That makes ㄹ-irregular the easiest of the seven classes to apply with full confidence once you've learned the rule.
| Class | Change | Triggered by | Example verb |
|---|---|---|---|
| ㅂ | ㅂ → 우 (or 오 for 돕다/곱다) | vowel-initial ending | 춥다 → 추워요 |
| ㄷ | ㄷ → ㄹ | vowel-initial ending | 듣다 → 들어요 |
| ㅅ | ㅅ drops | vowel-initial ending | 짓다 → 지어요 |
| 르 | ㅡ drops, ㄹ doubles | 아/어 ending | 모르다 → 몰라요 |
| 으 | ㅡ drops | 아/어 ending | 쓰다 → 써요 |
| ㅎ | ㅎ drops, vowel often shifts | 아/어 ending (mostly adjectives) | 빨갛다 → 빨개요 |
| ㄹ | ㄹ drops | ㄴ/ㅂ/ㅅ/으-initial ending | 살다 → 삽니다 |
Copula & existence
English uses one verb, "to be," for identity ("I am a student"), location ("I am at home"), and existence ("there is a book"). Korean splits this across two completely different words, and mixing them up is one of the very first grammar mistakes almost every learner makes and then quickly corrects.
이다 attaches directly to a noun to identify or classify it — it's grammatically a bit different from other verbs, attaching straight onto the noun rather than needing a separate particle first, and its form after a vowel-final noun contracts noticeably.
| Noun ending | 해요체 | 합니다체 | Example |
|---|---|---|---|
| Batchim (consonant-final) | 이에요 | 입니다 | 학생이에요. / 학생입니다. — (It's) a student. |
| No batchim (vowel-final) | 예요 | 입니다 (same, no split) | 친구예요. / 친구입니다. — (It's) a friend. |
The negative of 이다 is a separate word entirely, 아니다 (to not be), not a suffix on 이다: 학생이 아니에요 (It's not a student) — note that the noun before 아니다 takes 이/가, not 을/를, since 아니다 behaves like a descriptive verb about the subject rather than a transitive action on an object.
있다 (to exist / to have / to be [at a location]) and its negative 없다 (to not exist / to not have) cover everything English spreads across "there is," "I have," and "it's at." They conjugate as regular verbs with one honourific quirk covered in Honourifics (있다's honourific form is the suppletive 계시다, not 있으시다, for location/existence of a respected person).
| Korean | Literal structure | English sense |
|---|---|---|
| 집에 있어요. | house-at exist | (I) am at home. (location) |
| 책이 있어요. | book-SUBJ exist | (I) have a book. / There is a book. (possession/existence) |
| 시간이 없어요. | time-SUBJ not-exist | (I) don't have time. |
| 사람이 없어요. | person-SUBJ not-exist | There's no one (here). |
Notice the object of "have" in English becomes the subject (marked with 이/가) in Korean — 책이 있어요 is literally "book exists," not "(I) have book" with 책 as an object. This subject/object flip is a real structural difference, not just a translation quirk, and it's why 을/를 with 있다/없다 (except in a few fixed idiomatic patterns) is a common early mistake to watch for.
Beyond existence, 있다 is reused as an auxiliary verb attached after -고 to build the ongoing/progressive aspect, covered in full in Tense and aspect: 밥을 먹고 있어요 (I am eating / in the middle of eating), literally "eating and existing (in that state)." This dual role — standalone existence verb, and grammaticalised progressive marker — is worth flagging early so the two uses don't feel like unrelated coincidences later.
Tense & aspect
You've already met the three core tenses in the Conjugation section — this section goes further into aspect: not just when something happens, but how it unfolds — ongoing, completed-with-lasting-result, about-to-happen, and used-to-but-not-anymore. English marks a lot of this with auxiliary verbs ("I am eating," "I have eaten," "I used to eat"); Korean marks it with dedicated grammatical patterns built onto the verb stem, and learning to reach for the right one is what makes intermediate Korean sound natural instead of just grammatically correct.
Attaches -고 있다 to a verb stem to describe an action in progress, functioning like English "-ing." Conjugates for tense and politeness on 있다 itself.
With certain verbs describing a change of state that produces a lasting result (wearing clothes, sitting, standing, being married, holding something), -고 있다 shifts meaning slightly to describe the resulting state rather than the action happening right now: 앉아 있어요 (sitting, i.e., in the state of having sat down) vs. 옷을 입고 있어요 (which can mean either "in the process of putting clothes on" or, more commonly, "wearing clothes right now" as a state) — context usually disambiguates which sense is meant.
A separate, more specific pattern using -아/어 (not -고) plus 있다 emphasises a state that resulted from a prior action and continues — most naturally used with intransitive change-of-state verbs.
The contrast between -고 있다 and -아/어 있다 (both roughly "-ing" in English translation) is a genuinely subtle aspect distinction that even upper-intermediate learners keep refining — -고 있다 leans towards an ongoing process or a worn/held state, while -아/어 있다 leans towards a completed change whose result persists. Reaching for -고 있다 as your default and adjusting from exposure is a completely reasonable strategy while this distinction settles.
Combines the "try doing" pattern -아/어 보다 (see grammar patterns) with -(으)ㄴ 적이 있다 ("there was an occasion of") to describe life experience, parallel to English present perfect "have you ever...":
-(으)려고 하다 ("intend to, be about to") marks an upcoming action the subject plans or is on the verge of doing; it's covered fully with more examples in grammar patterns. -(으)ㄹ 참이다 is a more colloquial "just about to" pattern: 나가려던 참이었어요 (I was just about to head out) — useful for describing an action interrupted right at the point of starting.
-곤 하다 attaches to a verb stem to describe a habitual or repeated past action, close to English "used to": 어릴 때 여기 자주 오곤 했어요 (I used to come here often when I was young). -던 (covered fully as a modifier in Modifier clauses) marks an incomplete or recollected past action or state when used to modify a following noun: 마시던 커피 (the coffee I was [in the middle of] drinking) — implying the coffee wasn't finished, distinct from 마신 커피 (the coffee I drank, a completed action).
One structural quirk worth flagging early: many connective endings (covered in Connective endings) don't take a past-tense marker even when the subordinate action clearly happened in the past, because the main clause's tense is understood to cover the whole sentence. 학교에 가서 공부했어요 (Went to school and studied) keeps 가서 tense-neutral even though going to school obviously happened before, and in the past — only 공부했어요, the final verb, carries the past marker. This is different from English, where you might expect "went" in both halves, and it's one of the more mechanical-feeling adjustments in intermediate Korean rather than a meaning-driven choice.
Honourifics
This is genuinely one of the slower-building skills in Korean, because getting it right depends on social context you often can't fully judge as an outsider — relative age, workplace hierarchy, family position. Native speakers themselves recalibrate mid-conversation when they learn new information about someone's age or status. Being unsure which form to use in an unfamiliar situation isn't a gap in your Korean; it's the same calibration a Korean speaker does too. The good news is that the honourific system is built from a small number of concrete mechanisms, not an open-ended list of rules — once you know the mechanisms, applying them is mostly a matter of judgement about the social situation, not more grammar to learn.
Two separate axes are at work, and conflating them is the single most common beginner mistake: speech level (how formal the sentence ending is — see Speech levels) and honourific marking (whether you're elevating the person being talked about, regardless of formality). You can combine any speech level with honourific marking — a casual sentence about your grandmother can still honour her with 시, because speech level answers "how am I speaking to you" while honourifics answer "who am I speaking about."
The single most common honourific mechanism is inserting 시 (or 으시 after a consonant-final stem) into the verb, right after the stem and before the tense marker, whenever the subject of the sentence is someone you owe respect to.
| Plain | Honourific (with 시) | Gloss |
|---|---|---|
| 가요 (from 가다) | 가세요 / 가셨어요 (past) | (He/she, respected) goes / went |
| 읽어요 (from 읽다) | 읽으세요 / 읽으셨어요 (past) | (He/she, respected) reads / read |
| 바빠요 (from 바쁘다) | 바쁘세요 | (He/she, respected) is busy |
선생님이 오세요? (Is the teacher coming?) elevates 선생님 by inserting 시 into 오다, even though the sentence might otherwise be in casual 반말 with everyone else in the conversation — 시 tracks the subject's status, independent of who you're speaking to.
께서 replaces the plain subject particle 이/가 when the subject is someone respected, and 께 replaces 에게/한테 ("to") in the same circumstance.
께서 is somewhat more common in formal/written Korean than in casual speech, where 이/가 plus 시 on the verb alone is often considered sufficient — but 께서 is never wrong, and using it is a safe, slightly more careful-sounding choice.
A small, closed set of extremely common words don't just take 시 — they're replaced entirely by a different honourific word. These have to be memorised individually, but the list is short and every item on it is high-frequency, so the payoff for learning them is large relative to the effort.
| Plain | Honourific | Gloss |
|---|---|---|
| 있다 (exist/be at) | 계시다 | Used for a respected person's presence/existence — NOT 있으시다 |
| 먹다 (eat) / 마시다 (drink) | 드시다 / 잡수시다 (more formal/dated) | (He/she) eats/drinks |
| 자다 (sleep) | 주무시다 | (He/she) sleeps |
| 말하다 (say/speak) | 말씀하시다 | (He/she) says/speaks |
| 죽다 (die) | 돌아가시다 | (He/she) passes away (literally "goes back/returns") |
| 이름 (name) | 성함 | (Someone's respected) name |
| 나이 (age) | 연세 | (Someone's respected) age |
| 집 (house) | 댁 | (Someone's respected) home |
| 밥 (rice/meal) | 진지 | (A respected person's) meal |
| 있다 (possessive "have") | 있으시다 (this sense DOES take 시, unlike existence/location) | (He/she) has (something) |
Note the split inside 있다 itself: when 있다 means "to exist / be located somewhere" for a respected person, use 계시다 (선생님이 댁에 계세요 — the teacher is at home); when 있다 means "to have/possess" something for a respected person, the regular 시 infix applies instead (선생님이 시간이 있으세요 — the teacher has time) — 계시다 is never used for possession, only presence/location.
Alongside honourific forms that elevate the person you're discussing, Korean has humble forms that lower the speaker (or the speaker's in-group) relative to someone senior — a separate, complementary mechanism, most visible in a handful of verbs and the first-person pronoun.
| Plain | Humble | Used when |
|---|---|---|
| 나 (I/me) | 저 | Speaking to anyone you're not extremely close/casual with |
| 주다 (give) | 드리다 | Giving something to a respected person |
| 묻다/물어보다 (ask) | 여쭤보다 / 여쭙다 | Asking a respected person a question |
| 보다 (see/meet) | 뵙다 | Meeting/seeing a respected person |
| 말하다 (say) | 말씀드리다 | Saying something to a respected person (as opposed to 말씀하시다, which is what the respected person does) |
말씀 is worth a special note because it can go either direction: 말씀하시다 (honourific — a respected person speaking) and 말씀드리다 (humble — speaking to a respected person) both use the noun 말씀 (a respectful word for "words/speech") but pair it with different verbs depending on which direction the respect flows. Confusing these two is an easy early mistake, and the safest fix is to remember that 하다 attaches to the honoured person's own action, while 드리다 attaches to an action directed at them.
As covered in Pronouns, Korean avoids second-person pronouns almost entirely in respectful speech, replacing them with the person's title (선생님, 사장님, 교수님, 부장님) or name + 씨. 님 itself is a respect suffix that can attach to many role nouns (선생님 = teacher + 님, 사장님 = boss/owner + 님), and it's part of the same overall system as 시/께서/께 — all working together to keep the honoured person visible throughout the sentence without ever needing a marked-for-respect version of "you."
선생님께서는 요즘 바쁘셔서 댁에서 진지를 잘 못 드세요. — Because the teacher has been busy lately, (he/she) hasn't been able to eat properly at home. Notice every honourific mechanism stacking in one sentence: 께서는 (honourific subject particle + topic), 바쁘셔서 (시 infix on 바쁘다), 댁 (honourific "home"), and 드세요 (suppletive honourific for 먹다). This density is normal in careful, respectful speech about an elder — not every sentence needs every mechanism, but they compose freely when the situation calls for it.
Negation
Korean gives you two separate negation strategies — a short form and a long form — plus a meaningful distinction English doesn't make explicitly: simple negation ("not") versus negation due to inability ("can't"). Learning which slot each piece occupies clears up nearly all of the early confusion around this topic.
안 is placed directly before the verb or adjective, as a separate word (with a space), to create simple negation with no implication of inability.
못 occupies the same position as 안 but specifically means the subject is unable to do the action — due to lack of skill, an external obstacle, or circumstance — not simply choosing not to.
The 안/못 contrast is a genuinely useful one to nail early: 안 먹어요 (not eating — a choice, e.g. I'm on a diet) versus 못 먹어요 (can't eat — an inability, e.g. I'm allergic or it's too spicy) describe two different real-world situations that English would both render as "I don't/can't eat it" without the same forced distinction.
Attaching -지 않다 (long form of 안) or -지 못하다 (long form of 못) directly to the verb stem produces the same two meanings in a form that sounds slightly more formal/deliberate, and is required in certain longer sentence patterns where the short form doesn't fit grammatically.
| Short form | Long form | Gloss |
|---|---|---|
| 안 가요 | 가지 않아요 | (I'm) not going. |
| 못 가요 | 가지 못해요 | (I) can't go. |
| 안 예뻐요 | 예쁘지 않아요 | (It's) not pretty. |
The long form is required (not just preferred) with certain verb endings and set phrases where inserting a bare 안/못 in front wouldn't parse correctly — for instance, before -게 하다 (causative) or inside some connective clauses, only the -지 않다/-지 못하다 form works. As a practical rule while you're building intuition: the short form (안/못 + verb) is the more common, colloquial default in everyday speech, and the long form (verb stem + -지 않다/-지 못하다) is safer in writing or when a sentence gets more complex.
이다 (the copula) negates to a completely separate word, 아니다 (see Copula & existence), never 안 이다. 있다 negates to 없다, also a separate word — 안 있어요 is not the natural way to say "doesn't exist"; 없어요 is the standard negative.
Korean allows a double-negative-like pattern, -지 않을 수 없다 ("can't help but," literally "there's no way to not X"), which reads as a strong affirmative rather than a cancelled-out negative the way stacking negatives sometimes does informally in English: 가지 않을 수 없어요 (I can't help but go / I have no choice but to go). This pattern appears frequently in more formal or written Korean and is worth recognising even before you're ready to produce it fluently.
Questions
Good news up front: Korean doesn't need a separate auxiliary verb to form a question the way English needs "do/does" ("You go" → "Do you go?"). Most of the time, a statement becomes a question just by changing intonation upward at the end, or by swapping the sentence-final ending — the underlying word order and particles stay exactly the same either way.
In 해요체, a statement and its yes/no question can be identical in text, distinguished only by rising intonation in speech: 가요. (statement: "[I] go.") vs. 가요? (question: "[Do you] go?"). In 합니다체, the question ending changes from -ㅂ니다/습니다 to -ㅂ니까/습니까: 갑니다 (statement) vs. 갑니까? (question). In 반말, -니 or a rising -어/아 also marks a question: 가니? / 가?
| Level | Statement | Question |
|---|---|---|
| 해요체 | 가요. | 가요? (rising intonation) |
| 합니다체 | 갑니다. | 갑니까? |
| 반말 | 가. | 가? / 가니? |
This is a genuine structural difference from English, not just vocabulary: 네 (yes) and 아니요 (no) confirm or deny the truth of the question as posed, not the real-world fact directly the way English "yes/no" sometimes flips on a negative question.
This trips up nearly every English-speaking learner at least once, because English "yes" after a negative question ("Aren't you going?" — "Yes [I am]") answers the underlying fact, while Korean 네/아니요 answers whether the questioner's statement is accurate. Slowing down and mentally translating the question as "Is it true that you're not going?" before answering 네/아니요 helps until it becomes automatic.
As mentioned in Word order, Korean question words (누가 who, 뭐/무엇 what, 언제 when, 어디 where, 왜 why, 어떻게 how, 얼마나 how much) sit exactly where the answer would go — they are not fronted to the beginning of the sentence.
| Question word | Meaning | Example |
|---|---|---|
| 누가 | who (as subject) | 누가 왔어요? — Who came? |
| 뭐 / 무엇 | what | 뭐 먹어요? — What are you eating? (뭐 is the casual contraction of 무엇) |
| 언제 | when | 언제 가요? — When are you going? |
| 어디 | where | 어디 가요? — Where are you going? |
| 왜 | why | 왜 안 가요? — Why aren't you going? |
| 어떻게 | how | 어떻게 가요? — How are you going (there)? |
| 얼마나 | how much/how long | 얼마나 걸려요? — How long does it take? |
| 몇 | how many (+ counter) | 몇 개 있어요? — How many are there? |
These same question words, without a rising question intonation and often combined with -지 or 인가/은가, double as indefinite pronouns ("something," "someone," "somewhere"): 뭐 좀 먹을까요? can mean "shall we eat something?" with 뭐 functioning as "something" rather than "what," disambiguated entirely by context and intonation.
-죠 (contraction of -지요) turns a statement into a soft, confirmation-seeking question, similar to an English tag question ("..., right?" / "..., isn't it?"): 오늘 춥죠? (It's cold today, isn't it?). This overlaps with the sentence-final nuance particles covered in Sentence-final nuance, where -죠 gets a fuller treatment alongside 요/네요/잖아요.
-(으)ㄹ까요? proposes an action or asks for the listener's opinion/preference, softer than a direct yes/no question, and is one of the most useful early conversational patterns: 같이 갈까요? (Shall we go together?), 뭐 먹을까요? (What should we eat?). It's covered in full alongside the related -(으)ㄹ게요 in grammar patterns.
Connectives
English mostly links clauses with standalone conjunction words ("and," "because," "but," "so that") sitting between two complete sentences. Korean does this job by attaching a connective ending directly onto the verb stem of the first clause — the conjunction is fused into the verb itself, not a separate word. This is one of the areas where Korean rewards memorising patterns as whole units (stem + ending) rather than translating word-by-word from English, because the same English word ("and," "so") can correspond to several different Korean connectives depending on the precise relationship between the clauses.
Attaches directly to any stem, joining two actions or states with no particular time relationship implied beyond simple sequence or listing.
Follows the 아/어 vowel-harmony split (see Conjugation) and links two clauses where the first causes, enables, or immediately precedes the second — closer and more causally tight than -고. Crucially, -아/어서 never takes a past-tense marker on the first clause, even when the first action clearly happened before the second (see Tense and aspect).
The contrast between -고 and -아/어서 is worth sitting with: 밥을 먹고 학교에 갔어요 (ate, and [separately/afterwards] went to school — two listed actions) reads more neutrally than 밥을 먹어서 학교에 갔어요 (which would oddly suggest going to school was caused by eating) — for simple sequences of unrelated actions, -고 is usually the safer, more natural choice, while -아/어서 implies the first clause causes or directly leads into the second.
Attaches (으)니까 (으 after batchim, 니까 after a vowel) to give a reason, especially one that leads to a suggestion, command, or the speaker's own conclusion. It carries a more subjective, "given that this is the case..." feel compared to -기 때문에 (see below), and (unlike -아/어서) it's the connective required before an imperative or propositive ending.
The primary general-purpose conditional connective, covered in full with its variants in Conditionals.
One of the most versatile and frequently used connectives in spoken Korean, -는데 (for action-verb present, or 있다/없다) and -(으)ㄴ데 (for adjectives, or past action verbs via -았/었는데) sets up background information, a mild contrast, or context for what follows — often translating to "and," "but," or nothing at all in English depending on the surrounding sentence.
-는데 also stands alone at the end of a sentence (without a following clause) as a soft, trailing-off comment, covered further in Sentence-final nuance: 비가 오는데요... (It's raining, though...) leaves the implication open rather than stating a direct request or conclusion.
A more direct, explicit "but" than -는데, used when the contrast itself is the main point of the sentence rather than background context.
Attaches to a verb stem to state the purpose of a motion verb (가다, 오다, 다니다) specifically — it cannot be used with non-motion main verbs, which is what distinguishes it from the broader -(으)려고 below.
Expresses intention or purpose more broadly than -(으)러, and can combine with any main verb, not just motion verbs. Covered further as -(으)려고 하다 in grammar patterns.
Expresses a purpose ("so that X can happen") or the degree/extent to which something is done, often preceding a following clause describing an effort made towards that goal.
Turns a preceding adjective/verb into an adverbial phrase describing the manner or resulting state of the following verb, often overlapping in feel with -도록 but generally shorter and more common with simple manner descriptions.
Attaches to a verb stem to describe an action that triggers another immediately afterwards, with no gap in time.
| Ending | Core meaning | Key restriction/nuance |
|---|---|---|
| -고 | and (sequence/listing) | Neutral, no causal implication |
| -아/어서 | and so, because | No past tense on first clause; causal/sequential |
| -(으)니까 | because, since | Required before commands/suggestions; subjective reasoning |
| -(으)면 | if, when | General conditional (see Conditionals) |
| -는데/(으)ㄴ데 | and, but, background | Sets up context; extremely common in speech |
| -지만 | but, although | Direct, explicit contrast |
| -(으)러 | in order to | Only with motion verbs (가다/오다/다니다) |
| -(으)려고 | intending to | Works with any main verb |
| -도록 | so that, to the extent that | Purpose or degree |
| -게 | so as to, in a way that | Manner/degree, often shorter than -도록 |
| -자마자 | as soon as | Immediate follow-on action |
Modifier clauses
English builds a relative clause with a relative pronoun sitting between the noun and the description: "the friend who I met yesterday," "the book that I read." Korean has no relative pronoun at all — instead, the entire descriptive clause is turned into a modifier by attaching an ending directly to its verb, and that whole modified clause is placed before the noun with nothing in between. This can feel backwards at first (you read the description before you even know what noun it's describing), but it's completely consistent with the "modifiers come first" rule from Word order, and it becomes a natural reading rhythm with exposure.
| Ending | Used with | Tense/aspect sense | Example |
|---|---|---|---|
| -는 | Action verbs (present) | Present, ongoing | 먹는 사람 — the person who eats/is eating |
| -(으)ㄴ | Action verbs (past); adjectives (present) | Completed past (verbs); plain present (adjectives) | 먹은 사람 — the person who ate; 예쁜 사람 — the pretty person |
| -(으)ㄹ | Action verbs and adjectives (future/hypothetical) | Future, hypothetical, "about to" | 먹을 사람 — the person who will eat |
| -던 | Action verbs and adjectives (recollected/incomplete past) | Past, ongoing or interrupted, often nostalgic/recollective | 먹던 음식 — the food (I) used to eat / was eating |
Note that adjectives use -(으)ㄴ for their plain present sense (예쁜 꽃 — the pretty flower) rather than -는, which is reserved for action verbs. This is a real category split worth internalising: 가는 사람 (the person who is going, action verb + -는) versus 좋은 사람 (the good person, adjective + -(으)ㄴ) — the same-looking English word "the ___ person" hides a different underlying grammatical rule depending on whether the describing word is an action or a description.
있다 and 없다 (see Copula & existence) behave like action verbs for modifier purposes and take -는, not -(으)ㄴ: 재미있는 영화 (an interesting movie, literally "a movie that has interest"), 돈이 없는 사람 (a person who has no money). The copula 이다 takes -(으)ㄴ in its adjective-like modifier form: 학생인 사람 (a person who is a student) — though in practice this exact construction is fairly rare in natural speech, since you'd more often just say 학생 (student) as the noun directly.
Attaching -는 것 (or -(으)ㄴ 것, -(으)ㄹ 것 depending on tense) after a verb turns the entire preceding clause into a noun phrase meaning roughly "the thing/fact that [clause]" — this is one of the most productive patterns in Korean because it lets you embed a full sentence anywhere a noun could go.
-는 것 같다 ("it seems that...") is one of the highest-frequency patterns built on this structure, covered fully in grammar patterns.
Just like adjectives in English can stack ("the big old red house"), Korean modifier clauses can stack before a single noun, always in the same "modifiers before the noun" order, read left to right as you build up more specific detail: 어제 도서관에서 만난 예쁜 친구 (the pretty friend [I] met at the library yesterday) nests a time phrase, a location phrase, a past-tense verb modifier, and an adjective modifier, all resolving onto 친구 at the very end.
Conditionals
English gets by with roughly one conditional word ("if") and shifts meaning by changing verb tense around it ("if I go" vs. "if I went" vs. "if I had gone"). Korean instead reaches for a different connective ending depending on the kind of condition — general/habitual, one-time hypothetical, counterfactual regret, or a condition immediately followed by a discovery — which means the right choice depends on what you actually mean, not just which tense sounds right.
The default, most common conditional connective, covering real conditions, hypothetical conditions, and habitual "whenever" conditions alike.
Because -(으)면 covers "if" and habitual "when" together, context (not a different grammatical form) usually tells you which sense is meant — a general truth about the world reads as "when/whenever," while a specific future possibility reads as "if."
A more colloquial conditional often used to set up an instruction that only applies if a specific situation comes to pass, common in spoken directions and casual advice.
(Note this -거든 as a connective is distinct from the sentence-final -거든요 covered in Sentence-final nuance, which explains a reason rather than setting a condition — same spelling, two different grammatical jobs depending on whether a following clause continues after it.)
Built from -다고 하면 ("if [someone] were to say that..."), contracted to -다면, this form leans more hypothetical, literary, or emphatic than plain -(으)면, often used for clearly counterfactual or strongly hypothetical scenarios.
Combines the past-tense marker with -더라면 to express regret about something that didn't happen, parallel to English's third conditional ("if I had known..."). Frequently paired with -았/었을 텐데 ("would have...") in the second clause.
Less a true conditional and more a "the moment X happened, Y was discovered/happened too" connective, close in feel to -자마자 (see Connectives) but often implying the second event was somewhat unexpected or simultaneous.
Not strictly a conditional, but frequently taught alongside conditionals because it marks a similar "while X was happening, something changed" structure: an ongoing action is interrupted by, or shifts into, a second action.
| Ending | Type of condition | Example nuance |
|---|---|---|
| -(으)면 | General-purpose: real, hypothetical, or habitual | Safe default for almost any "if/when" |
| -거든 | Colloquial contingent condition, often before an instruction | "If it happens that..." |
| -다면 | Emphatic or literary hypothetical | Leans clearly counterfactual/hypothetical |
| -았/었더라면 | Counterfactual past ("if only...") | Expresses regret about the past |
| -자 | "The moment X, Y" (simultaneous discovery) | Closer to a trigger than a true condition |
| -다가 | Interrupted or shifting ongoing action | Not a true conditional, but related in structure |
Passive & causative
This is one of the areas where Korean genuinely has no fully regular, one-size-fits-all pattern — and that's worth saying plainly rather than glossing over, because it means memorisation plays a bigger role here than almost anywhere else in the grammar. Passive and causative meaning is built two ways: a small, closed set of irregular suffixes attached to specific verb stems (learned case by case), and a productive, always-available pattern using -아/어지다 (passive) or -게 하다 (causative) that works on virtually any verb. Leaning on the productive patterns while you gradually pick up the irregular suffixed forms for common verbs is a completely reasonable way to build this skill.
A closed set of verbs form their passive by inserting one of four suffixes — 이, 히, 리, or 기 — directly into the verb stem. There's no reliable rule for predicting which of the four a given verb takes; each has to be learned individually, though the suffixed forms are common, everyday words worth prioritising.
| Active | Passive | Suffix | Gloss |
|---|---|---|---|
| 보다 (see) | 보이다 | 이 | to be seen / visible |
| 먹다 (eat) | 먹히다 | 히 | to be eaten |
| 닫다 (close) | 닫히다 | 히 | to be closed (become closed) |
| 듣다 (hear) | 들리다 | 리 | to be heard / audible |
| 팔다 (sell) | 팔리다 | 리 | to be sold |
| 안다 (hug) | 안기다 | 기 | to be hugged |
| 쓰다 (write) | 쓰이다 | 이 | to be written |
Note the subject/object flip that comes with any passive, in Korean exactly as in English: the thing being acted upon becomes the grammatical subject (marked 이/가), and the original agent (if mentioned at all) is marked with 에게/한테 (for people) or 에 (for non-human forces): 창문이 바람에 열렸어요 (The window was opened by the wind).
Attaching -아/어지다 to an adjective or verb stem is the general, always-available way to express "becomes X" or a passive/resultant sense, and it's the pattern to reach for when you don't know (or the verb doesn't have) an irregular passive suffix.
Causatives ("make/let someone do X") use a similarly irregular, closed set of suffixes — several overlap in form with the passive set above, which is a genuine source of ambiguity resolved only by which specific verb you're dealing with and context.
| Base verb | Causative | Suffix | Gloss |
|---|---|---|---|
| 먹다 (eat) | 먹이다 | 이 | to feed (make eat) |
| 입다 (wear) | 입히다 | 히 | to dress (make wear) |
| 울다 (cry) | 울리다 | 리 | to make (someone) cry |
| 웃다 (laugh) | 웃기다 | 기 | to make (someone) laugh |
| 자다 (sleep) | 재우다 | 우 | to put (someone) to sleep |
| 서다 (stand) | 세우다 | 우 | to make (something) stand, to erect/park |
| 낮다 (be low) | 낮추다 | 추 | to lower (something) |
The general, always-available causative, attaching -게 하다 after any verb stem to mean "make/let someone do X" — reach for this whenever a verb doesn't have (or you don't know) an irregular causative suffix.
-게 하다 can express either a stronger "force to do" or a softer "allow/let do" sense depending on context — 가게 해 주세요 (please let me go) uses the same structure as 가게 했어요 (made [someone] go) but reads as permission rather than compulsion, disambiguated by the surrounding request-vs-statement framing (see also -아/어도 되다, "may/is allowed to," in grammar patterns, which is the more common way to explicitly ask for permission).
Grammar patterns
Beyond the core systems covered so far, a huge share of everyday Korean fluency comes down to a specific list of fixed grammar patterns — set phrases built onto a verb stem that each carry one specific, learnable meaning. These are exactly the kind of patterns TOPIK I and TOPIK II test constantly, and more importantly, they're the patterns that show up in real conversation dozens of times a day once you start noticing them. Below are more than thirty of the highest-value ones, grouped loosely by function, each with the formation rule and worked examples.
Verb stem + 고 싶다 expresses the speaker's (or, in a question, the listener's) desire to do something. For describing a third person's desire, -고 싶어하다 is used instead (a genuine grammatical requirement, not a style choice — 그는 가고 싶어요 sounds odd/ungrammatical for "he wants to go"; 그는 가고 싶어해요 is correct).
Verb stem (아/어 harmony) + 야 하다 (or the more colloquial 야 되다) expresses obligation or necessity.
Verb stem + (으)ㄹ 수 있다 expresses ability or possibility; 없다 negates it. Distinct from 못 (see Negation) mainly in formality and structure — both express inability, and this pattern is the more explicit, slightly more formal-sounding option.
Verb stem (아/어 harmony) + 도 되다 asks for or grants permission — the standard way to ask "may I...?" or state "you may...".
The negative counterpart of pattern 4 — verb stem + (으)면 안 되다 expresses prohibition.
Verb stem + (으)려고 하다 expresses intention or an about-to-happen plan (see also as a connective in Connectives).
Verb/adjective stem + 기 때문에 states a reason, more explicit and slightly more formal-sounding than -아/어서 or -(으)니까. With a noun, it's 명사 때문에 directly (no 기).
Past-tense verb modifier (-(으)ㄴ, see Modifier clauses) + 적이 있다/없다 describes life experience — see also Tense and aspect.
Verb/adjective modifier (-는, -(으)ㄴ, or -(으)ㄹ depending on tense) + 것 같다 softens a statement into an impression or guess — extremely common in natural speech even when the speaker is fairly certain, as a politeness-softening habit as much as genuine uncertainty.
Verb stem (아/어 harmony) + 보다 expresses trying something out, often as a suggestion.
Verb stem (아/어 harmony) + 주다 expresses doing an action as a favour for someone else. -아/어 주세요 ("please do X for me") is one of the single most common request patterns in the entire language.
Verb stem + (으)ㄹ게요 states the speaker's own decision or promise, usable only for the speaker's own future action (never for a third person or a question about the listener) — see also Conjugation.
Verb stem + (으)ㄹ까요 proposes an action jointly or asks for the listener's guess/opinion — softer and more collaborative-sounding than a direct question.
Verb stem + 는 동안 (or noun + 동안 directly) marks the duration during which the main clause's action happens.
Covered in full in Conditionals alongside true conditional patterns.
Past-tense modifier + 후에 (or the more sequential-feeling -고 나서) marks that the main clause happens after the first action completes.
More grammar patterns
Continuing the list from the previous section — these patterns round out the set that carries the bulk of TOPIK I and TOPIK II conversational grammar, plus a few that are less formally "tested" but come up constantly in real speech.
Verb stem + 기로 하다 states a decision that's been made, often about a future plan involving one or more people.
Verb stem + 기 전에 (or noun + 전에 directly) marks that the main clause happens before the following action.
Verb modifier + 대로 means either "as soon as" (with a completed action) or "in the same way as" (matching a manner).
Noun + (이)라도 suggests a lesser or fallback option is still acceptable.
Embeds an indirect question (see also Questions) as the object of "know" or "not know," using -는지 for action verbs and -(으)ㄴ지 for adjectives/past.
Builds on the -는데 connective (see Connectives) plus 도, strengthening the contrast to "even though/despite" — optionally followed by 불구하고 for extra emphasis in more formal registers.
Verb stem + (으)ㄹ 뻔하다 describes something that nearly happened but didn't.
Adds a second point on top of a first, both clauses often continuing with 도 in the second half.
A more formal, mostly written equivalent of -기 때문에, common in essays, news, and official notices.
Verb modifier + 대신에 (or noun + 대신에 directly) substitutes one action or thing for another.
Takes advantage of an action already happening to also do something related.
States a confident assumption, often setting up a suggestion or concern based on that assumption.
Expresses that an action's outcome is predictable regardless of whether it's done.
Points out something the listener should already know or that's evident, covered further as a sentence-final nuance particle in Sentence-final nuance.
Concedes a point before pivoting to a contrast, a common hedge in natural conversation.
Two endings that turn a verb into a noun (see also -는 것 in Modifier clauses), used constantly in headlines, labels, and formal writing. -기 tends towards abstract/general nominalisation; -(으)ㅁ towards a more concrete, completed-fact nominalisation.
| # | Pattern | Meaning |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | -고 싶다 | want to |
| 2 | -아/어야 하다/되다 | must, have to |
| 3 | -(으)ㄹ 수 있다/없다 | can/cannot |
| 4 | -아/어도 되다 | may, is allowed to |
| 5 | -(으)면 안 되다 | must not |
| 6 | -(으)려고 하다 | intend to |
| 7 | -기 때문에 | because |
| 8 | -(으)ㄴ 적이 있다/없다 | have/haven't done before |
| 9 | -는 것 같다 | seems like, I think |
| 10 | -아/어 보다 | try doing |
| 11 | -아/어 주다 | do for someone |
| 12 | -(으)ㄹ게요 | I'll (promise to) |
| 13 | -(으)ㄹ까요? | shall we? / do you think? |
| 14 | -는 동안 | while, during |
| 15 | -다가 | in the middle of X, then Y |
| 16 | -(으)ㄴ 후에 / -고 나서 | after doing |
| 17 | -기로 하다 | decide to |
| 18 | -기 전에 | before doing |
| 19 | -(으)ㄴ/는 대로 | as soon as / just as |
| 20 | -(이)라도 | even if just, at least |
| 21 | -(으)ㄴ/는지 알다/모르다 | know/not know whether |
| 22 | -(으)ㄴ/는데도 (불구하고) | even though, despite |
| 23 | -(으)ㄹ 뻔하다 | almost did |
| 24 | -(으)ㄹ 뿐만 아니라 | not only... but also |
| 25 | -(으)므로 | because, therefore (formal) |
| 26 | -(느)ㄴ 대신에 | instead of |
| 27 | -는 김에 | while at it, since already doing |
| 28 | -(으)ㄹ 텐데 | I expect/assume that |
| 29 | -(으)나 마나 | whether or not, doesn't matter |
| 30 | -잖아(요) | you know, as you know |
| 31 | -기는 하지만/하는데 | it's true X, but... |
| 32 | -(으)ㅁ / -기 | nominalising endings |
Adverbs
Adverbs are one of the more forgiving corners of Korean grammar precisely because they mostly sit exactly where you'd expect from English — directly before the verb or adjective they modify — and a large share of them are formed by one predictable rule rather than needing to be memorised as unrelated vocabulary. After the density of particles, conjugation classes, and honorific mechanics covered so far, it's worth taking a moment on adverbs as a genuine "easy win" section: once you know the -게 rule and the small set of high-frequency standalone adverbs, you can describe manner, degree, frequency, and time with real precision.
Just as -게 appears as a connective ending in Connectives (turning a clause into a manner phrase), the same -게 attaches directly to almost any adjective stem to produce a standalone adverb, closely paralleling English "-ly."
| Adjective | Adverb (-게) | Gloss |
|---|---|---|
| 빠르다 (be fast) | 빠르게 | quickly |
| 느리다 (be slow) | 느리게 | slowly |
| 조용하다 (be quiet) | 조용하게 | quietly |
| 행복하다 (be happy) | 행복하게 | happily |
| 깨끗하다 (be clean) | 깨끗하게 | cleanly |
Several common adjectives also have a shorter, irregular adverb form that exists alongside (and is often more natural than) the regular -게 form — these have to be learned individually, similar to English's irregular adverbs like "well" instead of a hypothetical "goodly."
| Adjective | Irregular adverb | Regular -게 form (also valid, more formal-sounding) |
|---|---|---|
| 많다 (be a lot) | 많이 | — |
| 적다 (be little/few) | 적게 | (same as regular form here) |
| 다르다 (be different) | 다르게 | (same as regular form here) |
| 좋다 (be good) | 좋게 / 잘 (jal, a separate irregular word meaning "well") | 좋게 |
| 쉽다 (be easy) | 쉽게 | (same as regular form here, ㅂ-irregular applies: 쉬우 + 게 → 쉽게 is actually the base -게 attaching directly without vowel change since 게 doesn't start with a vowel) |
잘 (well) deserves special mention as one of the most frequent adverbs in the entire language, functioning as a fully irregular, unrelated word rather than a -게 form of any adjective: 한국어를 잘해요 (I speak Korean well), 잘 지내요? (Are you doing well? — a very common greeting).
| Adverb | Meaning | Example |
|---|---|---|
| 아주 / 매우 | very (아주 more casual, 매우 more formal/written) | 아주 좋아요 — (it's) very good |
| 너무 | too (much), also colloquially "very" in casual speech | 너무 비싸요 — (it's) too expensive |
| 정말 / 진짜 | really, truly (진짜 more casual/emphatic) | 정말 고마워요 — (I'm) really thankful |
| 자주 | often | 자주 만나요 — (we) meet often |
| 가끔 | sometimes | 가끔 운동해요 — (I) exercise sometimes |
| 항상 / 늘 | always | 항상 바빠요 — (I'm) always busy |
| 전혀 | not at all (requires a negative verb) | 전혀 몰랐어요 — (I) didn't know at all |
| 거의 | almost, nearly | 거의 다 했어요 — (I'm) almost done |
| 벌써 | already | 벌써 끝났어요 — (it's) already finished |
| 아직 | still, yet (often with a negative for "not yet") | 아직 안 왔어요 — (he/she) hasn't come yet |
| 천천히 | slowly | 천천히 드세요 — please eat slowly |
| 다시 | again | 다시 해 보세요 — please try again |
전혀 (not at all) is a good example of a word that grammatically requires a negative verb to its right, similar to English "any" needing a negative context ("I don't have any," not "I have any") — 전혀 몰라요 (don't know at all) is correct, while 전혀 알아요 on its own is ungrammatical, because 전혀 is specifically a negative-polarity adverb.
Most adverbs sit directly before the verb or adjective they modify, but because Korean's core word order is flexible around the fixed verb-final anchor (see Word order), time and frequency adverbs in particular can shift earlier in the sentence for emphasis without becoming ungrammatical: 저는 항상 바빠요 (I'm always busy) and 항상 저는 바빠요 (Always, I'm busy) are both grammatical, with the second placing more stress on "always." Manner adverbs formed with -게, by contrast, sit much more rigidly right before the verb they modify, since moving them further away can create ambiguity about which verb they're describing in a longer sentence.
Korean has a rich set of adverbs formed by doubling a syllable or short unit, often carrying a vivid, sound-symbolic, or repeated-action sense that a single adverb wouldn't capture — a genuine feature of the language's adverb system rather than a marginal quirk, and common in both casual speech and children's language.
Comparatives
Unlike English, which changes the adjective itself for comparison ("tall" → "taller" → "tallest"), Korean adjectives never change form for comparison at all — the entire comparative or superlative meaning is carried by a particle or adverb placed around an unchanged adjective. That's a genuine simplification once it clicks: you never have to learn a second "comparative form" of any adjective.
보다 attaches to the noun being compared against, and word order is flexible (보다 can come before or after 더, the comparison adverb), though the phrase with 보다 typically precedes the adjective.
더 placed directly before the adjective adds the comparative "more" sense, and is often used together with 보다, though 더 alone (without stating what's being compared against) works too when the comparison is understood from context.
덜 works the same way as 더 but in the opposite direction, meaning "less."
제일 (more colloquial) and 가장 (slightly more formal/written) both mark the superlative, placed directly before the adjective, with no separate "-est" ending the way English changes the adjective's form.
Expresses equal comparison, close to English "as X as Y."
A common structure for asking "which is more...?" between two named options places both nouns before 중에서 ("among/between") followed by the comparative adjective.
| Word | Role | Example |
|---|---|---|
| 보다 | "than" (marks the comparison target) | 형보다 커요 — taller than (my) brother |
| 더 | "more" (comparative adverb) | 더 좋아요 — better / more good |
| 덜 | "less" | 덜 매워요 — less spicy |
| 제일 / 가장 | "most" (superlative) | 제일 맛있어요 — the tastiest |
| 만큼 | "as much as" (equal comparison) | 형만큼 커요 — as tall as (my) brother |
Sentence-final nuance
These small endings, tacked onto an already-complete sentence, are where Korean stops being purely grammatical and starts carrying real emotional and social colour — surprise, shared knowledge, a gentle reminder, a freshly-realised fact. English does something similar with tone of voice and filler phrases ("...you know," "...right?", "oh!"), but Korean grammaticalises these feelings directly into the sentence ending itself. Getting a feel for these is a genuinely late-stage skill, closer to picking up idiom and register than core grammar, and it's completely fine for these to still feel a little fuzzy well into intermediate study.
Already covered structurally in Speech levels as the marker of 해요체, 요 is technically a sentence-final particle itself, attachable even after a casual 반말 ending in some cases to soften it slightly (a spoken-only pattern): 알아 (casual "I know") → 알아요 (polite "I know").
Already introduced in Questions as a tag-question-like ending, -죠 (contraction of -지요) also works as a statement to express something the speaker assumes the listener already agrees with or knows, not just as a question.
Attaches to mark something the speaker is noticing or realising for the first time, right in that moment — distinct from simply stating a fact you already knew.
Compare with the plain 비가 와요 (it's raining, stated as a neutral fact) — 네요 specifically flags the information as newly noticed, which is why it shows up so often in compliments and reactions to something just observed.
Points out something the speaker believes the listener should already know, sometimes with a mild corrective or reminding tone — already introduced as pattern 30 in grammar patterns.
Explains a reason for something, frequently volunteering information the listener didn't explicitly ask for, sometimes with a faint "just so you know" or mildly justifying tone.
Similar in function to 네요 (marking a freshly-realised fact) but sits slightly more formal/written, and very commonly appears reacting to something someone just said rather than something directly observed.
| Ending | Core nuance | Register |
|---|---|---|
| 요 | Baseline politeness marker | 해요체 / softening 반말 |
| 죠/지요 | Soft confirmation, "right?" or "obviously" | 해요체 |
| 네요 | Fresh, in-the-moment realisation | 해요체 |
| 잖아요 | Reminding of shared/already-known info | 해요체 |
| 거든요 | Volunteering a reason, mildly justifying | 해요체 |
| 군요/구나 | Realisation about new information (more formal/narrative than 네요) | 합니다체-adjacent / 반말 (구나) |
Common mistakes
Every one of these mistakes is a completely normal, predictable byproduct of your English grammar reflexes meeting Korean's different rules — not a sign of insufficient study. Naming them explicitly, the way this section does, is usually enough to turn a recurring error into something you catch yourself making and self-correct within a sentence or two.
Covered in depth in Particles — the most persistent grammar confusion in Korean, because English has no topic/subject split at all. Defaulting to 은/는 for the first mention of something and switching to 이/가 when directly answering a "who/what" question is a reasonable working heuristic while the fuller feel for the distinction develops.
English speakers habitually restate "I," "you," "it" every sentence; Korean drops them constantly once established (see Word order). Overusing 저는/그것을 in every sentence of a conversation doesn't just sound unnatural — it can come across as oddly formal or distancing, closer to over-explaining. If context makes the subject obvious, it's safe (and more natural) to drop it.
As covered in Pronouns, there's no safe, all-purpose "you" — 당신 can sound confrontational or oddly intimate depending on context, and 너 is casual/intimate only. Defaulting to the person's name + 씨, their title, or simply dropping the pronoun avoids this trap entirely.
Covered fully in Negation — 안 가요 (choosing not to go) and 못 가요 (unable to go) describe genuinely different real-world situations, and English "can't/don't" doesn't force the same distinction, so it's easy to reach for the wrong one on reflex.
Because English "have" takes a direct object ("I have a book"), it's tempting to mark the possessed noun with 을/를 in Korean too. But 있다/없다 take 이/가 on the possessed noun (see Copula & existence) — 책이 있어요, not 책을 있어요.
Covered in Questions — for a negative question like 안 가요? (aren't you going?), English "yes" answers the underlying fact ("yes, I am going"), while Korean 네 confirms the question as posed ("yes, that's right, I'm not going"). This one requires deliberately pausing before answering until it becomes automatic.
Covered in Honorifics — the existence/location sense of 있다 for a respected person becomes the suppletive 계시다, while the possession sense simply takes the regular 시 infix (있으시다). Using 계시다 for "has (something)" is a common overcorrection once learners first pick up the honorific system.
Covered in Numbers — reaching for Sino-Korean numbers (일, 이, 삼) when counting objects with a native-number counter (개, 명, 살), or vice versa for dates and phone numbers, is an extremely common slip precisely because both systems are numbers and the wrong one still "sounds like a number" rather than sounding obviously broken.
Covered in Modifier clauses — the instinct to say something like 친구, 어제 만난 (mimicking English "the friend, who I met yesterday") instead of 어제 만난 친구 (modifier clause first, noun last, no relative pronoun) is a common early-stage word-order slip that resolves quickly once the "modifiers always come first" rule is internalised as an absolute, not a preference.
Covered in Connectives — because -아/어서 often maps loosely to English "and" in translation, it's tempting to use it for any simple sequence of actions. But -아/어서 implies a causal or tightly sequential link; a neutral list of actions ("I ate breakfast and went to school, and then I studied") is usually better served by -고, reserving -아/어서 for when the first action genuinely causes or directly enables the second.
Learners who study written/formal Korean first sometimes over-include 의 (see Particles) in casual speech, where 제 친구 is far more natural than the "grammatically complete" 저의 친구. Written Korean keeps 의 more consistently; spoken Korean drops it constantly, and matching the register to the context (not just producing the most "complete" sentence) is part of sounding natural rather than textbook-stiff.
Covered in Modifier clauses — because -는 is the modifier ending most learners meet first (via action verbs), it's tempting to apply it everywhere, producing something like 예쁘는 사람 for "the pretty person" instead of the correct 예쁜 사람. Adjectives take -(으)ㄴ for their plain present-tense modifier sense, not -는; keeping the action-verb/adjective split in mind (see Conjugation, where the same category boundary determines several other endings) heads this one off before it becomes a habit.
Because 안 and 못 negate ordinary verbs by sitting directly in front of them (see Negation), it's a natural but incorrect extension to try 안 이에요 for "isn't" or 안 있어요 for "doesn't exist." The copula 이다 negates only through the separate word 아니다, and 있다 negates only through the separate word 없다 — neither ever takes a bare 안 or 못 in front of it in standard usage, which is worth treating as a hard exception rather than a pattern that will eventually generalise.
Because sentence-final particles like 네요, 잖아요, and 거든요 (see Sentence-final nuance) carry emotional colour the way English relies on tone of voice for, it's tempting to under-produce them and lean entirely on English-style intonation instead, since intonation is the instinct that's already automatic. The particles carry real, specific grammatical meaning beyond tone, though — a flat 비가 와요 and an excited-sounding 비가 오네요! are genuinely different grammatical choices, not just the same sentence said with more or less enthusiasm, and learning to reach for the particle (not just the tone) is part of what makes intermediate Korean sound native rather than merely correct.
FAQ
Korean grammar is built on subject-object-verb (SOV) word order, particles that mark each noun's grammatical role instead of relying on position, a verb system where every ending fuses tense, aspect, and politeness together, and a two-track honorific system layered on top of all of it. Once you learn the particle pairs, the regular conjugation patterns, and a small set of irregular verb stems, the rest of Korean grammar is applying those same building blocks in longer and longer sentences.
Korean particles attach to nouns to show their role: 은/는 marks a topic, 이/가 a subject, 을/를 an object, 에 a time or destination, and 에서 the place where an action happens. Many come in consonant-final and vowel-final pairs chosen by batchim. Verb endings attach to the sentence's final predicate and carry tense, mood, sentence type, and listener politeness. Start with one particle contrast and 해요체 endings such as -아요/-어요, then practise them together in complete sentences instead of memorising either system in isolation.
Batchim (받침) is the consonant written at the bottom of a Hangul syllable block. Whether a word ends in batchim determines which form of a particle attaches to it (은 vs 는, 이 vs 가, 을 vs 를, 로 vs 으로) and it also drives pronunciation rules like sound-linking, assimilation, and tensification when the next syllable starts with a vowel or a plain consonant.
Every Korean verb and adjective ends in 다 in its dictionary form. To conjugate, you drop 다 and attach endings to the stem in a fixed order: stem plus an optional honorific 시, then a tense marker, then a politeness or sentence-type ending. Regular stems follow this directly; irregular stems (ㅂ, ㄷ, ㅅ, 르, 으, ㅎ, ㄹ) change shape first depending on what vowel the next ending starts with, most often turning on whether that ending starts with 아 or 어.
Modern spoken Korean mainly uses three levels day to day: 반말 (banmal, casual, for close friends, younger people, and family), 해요체 (haeyo-che, polite conversational, ending in 요, the safe default with strangers and acquaintances), and 합니다체 (hamnida-che, formal, used in news, presentations, customer service, and the military). Two more levels, 하오체 and 하게체, exist in older or literary Korean but rarely appear in everyday conversation, and 해체 is the plain casual form banmal is built from.
Korean has two negation strategies. The short form places 안 (simple negation) or 못 (inability) directly before the verb, as in 안 가요 (not going) or 못 가요 (can't go). The long form attaches -지 않다 or -지 못하다 to the verb stem, as in 가지 않아요 or 가지 못해요, which sounds slightly more formal and is required with certain longer verb forms.
Korean honorifics elevate the person being talked about (not necessarily the listener) by inserting the honorific infix 시 into the verb stem, by swapping the subject particle 이/가 for 께서, by swapping certain nouns and verbs for dedicated honorific forms (밥 becomes 진지, 있다 becomes 계시다, 먹다 becomes 드시다), and separately by using humble forms that lower the speaker (저 instead of 나, 드리다 instead of 주다) when speaking to someone senior.
이/가 marks the grammatical subject and often introduces new or emphasised information, while 은/는 marks the topic — what the sentence is about — and often signals contrast or already-known information. 제가 학생이에요 answers 'who is a student?' while 저는 학생이에요 sets 'me' as the topic and states a fact about myself, closer to 'as for me, I'm a student.'
Korean builds relative clauses by attaching a modifier ending directly to a verb stem and placing the whole clause before the noun it describes, with no relative pronoun like 'who' or 'that.' -는 modifies with a present, ongoing sense for action verbs, -(으)ㄴ gives a past sense for action verbs or a plain present sense for adjectives, -(으)ㄹ gives a future or hypothetical sense, and -던 gives a recollected, incomplete past sense, as in 어제 만난 친구 (the friend [I] met yesterday).
High-value early patterns include -고 싶다 (want to), -아/어야 하다 (must), -(으)ㄹ 수 있다/없다 (can/can't), -아/어도 되다 (may/is allowed to), -(으)려고 하다 (intend to), -기 때문에 (because), -(으)ㄴ 적이 있다 (have done before), -는 것 같다 (seems like), -아/어 보다 (try doing), and -아/어 주다 (do for someone). These patterns recur constantly from TOPIK I through TOPIK II and form the backbone of everyday spoken Korean.
Korean is a pro-drop language: any noun that's obvious from context — usually the subject, often the object too — is simply omitted rather than replaced with a pronoun. Verb endings, particles, and honorific marking carry enough information that repeating 저는 (as for me) or 그것을 (that thing) in every sentence would sound unnatural and overly explicit, closer to over-explaining in English.
Yes. Sino-Korean numbers (일, 이, 삼...) are used for dates, money, phone numbers, minutes, and counting above 100, while native Korean numbers (하나, 둘, 셋...) are used for counting objects, people, hours, and age with counters. The two systems are not interchangeable — 세 시 (three o'clock, native) versus 삼 분 (three minutes, Sino-Korean) uses a different number word for each half of the same time expression.
Practise this in Scribe Origins →
Applied practice
The useful answer to how can I practise Korean grammar is to combine sentence structure with relationship. Build a clause in Korean subject–object–verb order, choose particles according to information structure, and then select an ending that fits the listener and setting. A grammatically correct verb stem with an unsuitable speech level can still sound socially wrong.
Particle clinic
은/는 marks a topic or contrast: 저는 학생이에요 frames “as for me.” 이/가 marks the subject and often identifies new or focused information: 누가 왔어요? 민지가 왔어요. 을/를 marks a direct object: 책을 읽어요.
The choice between topic and subject is not reducible to an English translation. Compare 저는 커피를 마셔요, a neutral statement about what I do, with 제가 커피를 마셔요, which can identify me as the person who drinks or will drink it. Context decides the focus.
In casual speech, predictable particles can be omitted, especially when the roles are obvious. Learn the full marked form first so you understand the relationship, then notice omission in real dialogue. Do not delete particles mechanically from every sentence; contrast and ambiguity can make them important.
Speech levels
해요체 is a widely used polite conversational style, as in 가요, 먹어요, and 좋아요. 합니다체 is a more formal deferential style common in presentations, announcements, news-like delivery, military contexts, and formal service language: 갑니다, 먹습니다, 좋습니다. Both are polite, but their social tone and typical settings differ.
Plain and intimate styles also exist, and Korean endings express sentence type as well as politeness. Practise a small set consistently before mixing levels. Within one interaction, an unexplained shift can sound abrupt even when every individual form is grammatical.
Choosing a speech level is central to how to practise Korean grammar because Korean grammar carries the speaker–listener relationship at the end of the clause.
Honorific clinic
-(으)시- honours the grammatical subject, usually a respected person: 선생님이 오세요 means “The teacher comes/is coming,” with 오시- plus the polite ending. It does not honour the listener automatically; listener-directed politeness is expressed through the sentence ending. A sentence may contain subject honorification and a listener speech level at the same time.
Korean also uses honorific vocabulary, such as 계시다 as an honorific counterpart in contexts where 있다 would otherwise appear. Avoid inserting -(으)시- merely because a sentence is polite. Ask who the subject is and whether that person is being elevated.
Exercises
Repeat with new locations, people, and verbs, then convert the answers between polite styles. This controlled variation is the practical answer to how can I practise Korean grammar.
Korean learner questions
Begin with Hangul reading, basic subject–object–verb order, 이다 and 아니다, core particles, present and past polite endings, questions, negation, existence, location, and common connectors. Learn one conversational speech level consistently before adding formal and intimate alternatives.
As sentences grow, add modifier clauses, aspect, reported speech, honorifics, conditionals, and discourse endings through real examples. Korean endings combine several meanings, so build from complete stems and clauses rather than memorising detached suffix translations.
해요체 is a practical conversational starting point because it is polite and widely usable. Learn 합니다체 for formal settings and recognition, then add plain or intimate forms when you understand the relationships that permit them. One form cannot cover every situation.
Practise the same content in two styles and label the listener relationship. Avoid mixing endings randomly inside one exchange.
Particles are often omitted in casual speech when roles and information structure are obvious, but the omission can remove contrast or create ambiguity. Learn the full form first. Then compare authentic dialogue and ask what remains recoverable from context.
Topic and subject particles are especially meaningful when identifying, contrasting, or correcting information. Omission is a discourse choice, not a rule that spoken Korean has no particles.
Learn the distinction between listener politeness and subject honorification early, even if your productive system remains small. Recognise -(으)시-, respectful titles, and a few common honorific verbs. This prevents you from treating every polite sentence as structurally identical.
Accuracy grows with context. Ask who is being respected, who is listening, and what setting applies. Use reliable model phrases in high-stakes social situations instead of improvising complex honorific combinations.
Ending practice
Group endings by communicative job and build them from familiar stems: statement, question, request, reason, contrast, condition, or reported speech. Practise one job across several verbs, then compare another ending with a similar translation. Always include the listener relationship and tense or aspect context.
Say complete clauses so contractions and sound changes become familiar. A chart supports analysis, but repeated selection inside short dialogues creates retrieval. When an ending fails, identify whether the missing part is stem change, attachment rule, meaning, or speech level.
Build Korean clauses
Start from the final verb or adjective and add time, topic, subject, object, location, and manner with their Korean markers. Use pictures or situations rather than English sentences, and omit information already clear from context. Rearrange only after learning a neutral model. Shadow short dialogues, then replace one participant or object while keeping the clause ending. This makes Korean relationships the construction plan instead of an English subject–verb–object template.
The guide uses standard South Korean usage and identifies speech levels and honorific relationships where they change the form.