Part 8: Common errors
The errors of a punctuation system made of words divide the usual way: page errors the validator catches, and voice errors only you will. Both kinds below.
Error 1: writing the marks back in
Wrong: wa thia towe nai?; kona lopia, kia.; su theula towe nai!
The question mark, the comma, the exclamation point: each is now saying something the sentence already said, in a channel most of the language's modes cannot even carry. The validator refuses all three. The itch to add them is real and it is English's itch, not Phi's; the cure is Part 1's table, reread until the redundancy is felt rather than known.
Error 2: trusting the tone to ask
Grammatical, but not a question: thia towe nai., said with a hopeful rise at the end.
No tone, and no pause, can change what a Phi sentence means; that is a design guarantee, not a gap. Said rising, falling, or through a mouthful of soup, that sentence states that the listener is well. If you want to ask, the language holds the door open one syllable wide: wa. Uptalk is not grammar in Phi. Nothing is grammar in Phi except words in their places.
Error 3: dropping the closer
Wrong: mia mena shia to wepu sano.
The embedded clause opened and never shut, and now wepu and sano stand face to face with nothing to say whose sentence ended. English readers under-hear the closers because English's own right-hand bracket is a silent mark they have never once pronounced. Canon requires meno, welo, and sholo without exception: the closer is the comma you can hear, and the complementizers pamphlet will drill it until the click is reflex: mia mena shia to wepu meno sano.
Error 4: writing the pause
Wrong: trailing dots, dashes, white space deployed as drama: mia … remo.
Pauses are free, which means they are also meaningless, which means the page has nothing to record. Every ellipsis is an attempt to notate breath, and Phi's page does not notate breath; it notates words, which is why it survives dictation. Put the weight where the language can carry it: word choice, word order, a shorter sentence. mia remo. with a long silence before it needs no dots, and the silence is yours to take, unwritten, every time you read it.
Error 5: the rescued capital
Wrong: Ne siora shua. Or "Siora" in the narration beside it.
Sentence position earns no capital; names earn no capital; nothing earns a capital, in any mode, ever. The naming pamphlet, part 6, owns the full argument; the punctuation-shaped half is simply that a capital is one more silent mark, and it fell in the same audit as the rest. The validator holds the Phi side of the line; the English narration around your Phi is yours to keep lowercase where names cross into it.
Error 6: the monotone trap
The page shows only periods, so the reader's voice goes flat: every sentence the same shape, the punctuation "missing."
It is not missing; it is in the words, and the words are instructions. When wa opens a sentence, your voice already knows the whole thing is a question: no terminal glyph needed, and no terminal rise either, unless you feel like it. When kona sounds, someone is being turned toward. When sholo lands, a quotation audibly closed and your voice can hand the sentence back to the frame. Flat reading of Phi is a reader ignoring stage directions that were delivered on time, in order, out loud. Read the words as the marks they are, and period-only prose has more audible structure than English ever draws.
Error 7: exclamation smuggling
Grammatical, and fog: ru welao. ru sulae sulopa. mia ru siora phaelo.
Translating English's "!" as a reflexive ru on everything reproduces the exclamation mark's actual failure (undifferentiated emphasis) in a language built to refuse it. ru intensifies one word, honestly; spent on every word, it intensifies nothing, the same inflation as the evidential fog (the evidentiality pamphlet, Error 6). The exclamation's real work was split three ways (ru for intensity, the interjections for immediacy, su for the exclaimed wish) and each does its share only if you let it specialize. When everything is very, nothing is.