Nope! 
That use of the word forte is pronounced “fort”. It is derived from the hilt of a sword and means “strength or skill”.
*Forte *pronounced “fortay” means softly, as in a musical direction.
I was going to post that one myself!
Hm, both Merriam Webster and dictionary.com suggest otherwise.
Either way, in music it means with force or loudly, not softly 
Interesting- I’ve never heard it that way, only the “fort” version for strong. They’re ya’ go!
That one I’ll give ya’. Don’t know what I was thinking… piano means softly. :smack:
This one has always confused the hell out of me. And god knows I asked many times to people teaching me Spanish. I also made small drawings, hoping to remember.
But I still can’t get it right 
You’re trying to confuse me even more, aren’t you?
Could someone clear things up wrt traer and llevar? I’m not sure you weren’t correct in your first post.
That’s just how I roll.
Infer
Pressurise
Careen
This might sometimes be a case of the fingers getting ahead of the brain. I often catch myself typing “to” when I know it should be “too”, or “they’re” instead of “there”. I completely understand which is correct, but sometimes my fingers seem to be guided by the sound of the word, before my brain’s spelling quality assurance circuitry has a chance to intervene.
On the other hand, the words in your example are not homonyms in most dialects of English–might be interesting to hunt down the posts to which you refer and see if a pattern emerges in the members’ location…
Well, they’ve certainly taken their toll on me.
I can tell you this: If you, say, are going to BRING a cake to a friend’s birthday party next week, you don’t say “Te traeré un pastel”, but rather “Te llevaré un pastel”, because from WHERE YOU ARE SPEAKING NOW, you’ll be TAKING it, not “BRINGING” it.
Just like the example I gave with “voy” and “vengo”.
This has just started happening to me in the last year or so, and since I’m a professional writer and editor, it’s very annoying (especially if I don’t catch it before hitting “send”). I blame all the dumb people in the world for providing me with bad examples and making me dumber.
“Laurels”, as in “to rest on one’s laurels”. I think a lot of people think it means “haunches” or something, i.e. to sit on your butt doing nothing at all instead of merely to be inactive after having already received awards.
Valete,
Vox Imperatoris
“Smarmy” is often used as a synonym for “sleazy”, rather than “Eddie Haskellish”.
I would bet real money that it won’t be long before we hear of “acting on a haunch”.
Well, yes, but I believe we were talking about English. Every language behaves differently. And, anyway, you’d say, “Te llevo un pastel,” it being understood that the party is next week.
Your ninth grade Spanish teacher is no more authoritative than your ninth grade English teacher.
Yeah, but this is one of those things where it’s usually better for most people to go with the flow. Maybe you can get away with it, but nothing good can come from me using the pronunciation “FORT”. Either, A) the person I say it to thinks I’m pretentious or dumb and doesn’t mention it; or, B) they do mention it, I answer, “No, it’s actually pronounced “FORT” and you’ve just been saying it wrong all these years”, and I come off looking like a douche.
Better to just stick with “FOR-TAY”.
Since this is in disagreement with what Left Hand of Dorkness said earlier in the thread, I looked it up. Merriam-Webster says it means either (1) discolored by bruising (black and blue), (2) ashen or pallid (what Dorkness said), (3) reddish, or (4) very angry, enraged. I didn’t find anything about purple.
How is this misused?
“Verbal” just means it uses words. Could be oral, written, or produced by sending Morse code to a speech synthesizer. But nobody makes that distinction outside of the legal profession anymore. Unfortunate, too. It’s a useful distinction.
It’s only been recently that I had a flash of insight into why certain language changes (e.g., making up new words) don’t bother me at all, while others (e.g., “disinterested” or “decimated”) really do. The difference is that adding new words enhances the language, giving us more tools to work with, while misusing a word until the “wrong” definition becomes the standard robs us of very useful words that have no exact synonym.
Sometimes you end up with a no-win situation. For example, the plural of “die” (one of those things you roll) is “dice.” If you’re talking about a die (as in “tool & die”), the plural is “dies.” But in the semiconductor industry, everyone uses “die” as the plural of “die” (an individual integrated circuit).
So when I started writing for a semiconductor magazine in the 80s, I had to choose between looking like I didn’t know the industry (by using “dice” or “dies” as the plural) or looking like I didn’t know the “correct” plural of “die” (by using “die”).
I decided to resolve the problem by never using the plural of “die”–rephrasing to use wafer, chips, or some other similar word. 
[Actually, the editor-in-chief told me to use “die” as the plural. It was the house style, and I followed it like a good writer.]
The first search hit, from the American Heritage dictionary:
The bluish/purple is the same thing.
Merriam-Webster online gives:
I never heard the ashen/pallid meaning before. I assume that it, like the reddish meaning, are new ones resulting from people assuming that “livid” must mean those colors, instead of the bluish one the word originally meant
Etymology Online gives:
Random House’s Words at Random has a pretty long piece on it:
(emphasis mine)
So the other definitions, including “red” have been dictionary-sanctified, and I must yield on that. But they’re developements from the original root as “bluish-purple”
Rabbit Punch–incorrectly used to mean “short, quick jab” as in “a rabbit punch to the chest.” Actually means a strike to the back or side of the neck or head.
Nubile–incorrectly used as a physical description of firm-fleshed young women. Actually means “available for marriage.”
I learned what laurels were by playing Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest for the NES. Thank you Nintendo, you’ve once again proved that you’ve made me a better person, and that I wouldn’t have been better off not playing you for hours on end as a child.