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“There exists, for everyone, a sentence - a series of words - that has the power to destroy you. Another sentence exists, another series of words, that could heal you. If you're lucky you will get the second, but you can be certain of getting the first.”
― Philip K. Dick, VALIS

“One Ring to rule them all,
One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all
and in the darkness bind them.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

“The words sounded like a mournful incantation.”
― Dan Simmons, The Terror

“Chipmunks jump, and
greensnakes slither.
Rather burst than
not be with her.

Bluebirds fight, but
bears are stronger.
We've got fifty
years or longer.

Hoptoads hop, but
hogs are fatter.
Nothing else but
Us can matter.”
― Donald Hall

“He took the sacramental chalice, and stretching forth his bare arm, cried in a loud voice, 'Come ye viewless ministers of this dread hour! come from the fenny lake, the hanging rock, and the midnight cave! The moon is red - the stars are out - the sky is burning - and all nature stands aghast at what we do!' Then replacing the sacred vessel on the altar, he drew, one by one, from different parts of his body, from his knotted hair, from his bosom, from beneath his nails, the unholy things which he cast into it.

'This,' said he, 'I plucked from the beak of a raven feeding on a murderer's brains! This is the mad dog's foam! These the spurgings of a dead man's eyes, gathered since the rising of the evening star! This is a screech-owl's egg! This a single drop of black blood, squeezed from the heart of a sweltered toad! This, an adder's tongue! And here, ten grains of the gray moss that grew upon a skull which had lain in the charnel-house three hundred years! What! Not yet?' And his eyes seemed like balls of fire as he cast them upwards. 'Not yet? I call ye once! I call ye twice! Dare ye deny me! Nay, then, as I call ye thrice, I'll wound mine arm, and as it drops, I'll breathe a spell shall cleave the ground and drag you here!' ("The Forsaken Of God")”
― William Mudford, Reign of Terror: Great Victorian Horror Stories

“Life is like a little book written
With a whole lot of surprise.
Spell a word that doesn´t fit in
And that´s a spell in desguise.”
― Ana Claudia Antunes, The Witches Of Avignon

“Let my sight end. Let the dark tides of Nyx ebb away beneath the white sands of null. Let our pale mother spread once more!”
― H.S. Crow, Lunora and the Monster King

“They stand beside a grave. Hermann sprinkles upon it a powder, which falls in sparkles of light from his fingers. The earth begins to heave; and presently, as a volcano casts up its ashes, the grave empties itself. Slowly and slowly, like the rippling waves of a becalmed ocean, it rises to the surface, divides, and falls in crumbling heaps on either side. Then there ascends the venerable figure of an aged man, clothed in robes of purple and scarlet, the ensigns of senatorial dignity. At the same moment, the spectre arm, by wondrous motion of its own, tears itself aloft, and becomes a dimly gleaming torch; each livid finger sending forth pale red dusky flames, which fling a horrid glare upon the cadaverous features of the phantom. ("The Forsaken Of God")”
― William Mudford, Reign of Terror: Great Victorian Horror Stories

“I use myself as a form of knowledge. I know you through and through, by means of an incantation that comes from me to you. To stretch out savagely while an inflexible geometry vibrates behind everything.”
― Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star

“and it all comes down to this
a gospel written in the living
an incantation we pass hand to hand
soul to soul
it’s this
if you do nothing other than run
run in the direction of you”
― Stephanie Greene

“A person's name is a fate-conjuring incantation.”
― Mark Leyner, The Sugar Frosted Nutsack

“Much of the power of the words is held in the act of saying or hearing them. Whatever meaning they carry is secondary. That is not to say that these things are done by rote in Mass—rather, it’s more of an incantation.”
― A.D. Aliwat, In Limbo

“A fairy ring, it stated, is very much like a doorway, and in several cultures it is perfectly acceptable to knock. Though most American and American-antecedent ethnicities do not practice such summoning, some bargaining cultures did, or do, practice the art.
Alaine skimmed several photographs describing Sicilian stories of joining with fairies to battle witches and the Scottish worship of nature spirits, none of which seemed particularly relevant. She was growing frustrated at the author's apparent disregard for the separation between folktale and true practice when the chapter settled on a long description.
Recent research into English witch trials have revealed a connection between bargaining culture and some occult forms of practice in which fairies are ritualistically summoned. Though some equate the practice with the concept of a "witch's familiar"... Here Alaine began to skim again until the author found himself back on track. Interviewees from several small villages recall stories that those bold enough to enter a fairy ring could summon a fairy by placing a silver pin in the center of the ring, repeating an incantation such as "a pin to mark, a pin to bind, a pin to hail" (additional variants found in Appendix E), and circling the interior of ring three times. It remains, of course, impossible to test the veracity of such stories, but the consistency of the methodology across geographical regions is intriguing, down to the practice of carrying a small bunch or braid of mint into the ring.
Alaine shut the book on her finger, marking the spot. Impossible to rest, indeed. She opened the book again. It began a long ramble detailing various stories of summoning, but Alaine didn't need the repetition to know the method. A short footnote added that Mint appears to serve in the stories as both attractant and repellant for the fairy creatures, drawing them to the summoner but preventing from being taken unwilling into Fae, unlike tobacco and various types of sage, which are merely deterrents.”
― Rowenna Miller, The Fairy Bargains of Prospect Hill

“Oâ€� Nine of Sacred Woods...
When nine of magic woods combine, they create a spell, divine.
To use to conjure up the best of all the forest’s great defense.
To keep protected and ensure that light and life indeed endures.
From Alder, Rowen, Willow, Birch to Hazel, Holly, Hawthorne’s perch. And then there’s Ash, the forest’s Queen, accompanied by the Oak, it’s King.
They come together in glen and grove, to grow in such a treasure trove.
So, use their force, their strength, and grain, to ensure your powers never wane.”
― Andrew Pacholyk, Pearls of Light: passion, poetry & positive affirmations

“She flipped to the next page with the heading "Love Honey."

1 handful of cotton
2 red clovers
A few drops of honeysuckle nectar
Dash of nutmeg sugar

Put all ingredients inside a copper bee smoker. Light it with a match soaked in rosemary oil and drop it in. Go to a hive you know well at sunrise and say the words while you smoke them:

Come to me, my love
You will find me in the creek swimming you
Or in the kitchen baking you
Or in my bed sleeping you
I will think only of you
And you will think only of me
You will be hungry when you eat
You will be tired when you sleep
Until you come to me
My love ”
― Alli Dyer, Strange Folk