"Cayenne, marjoram, cinnamon."
The names of lost and fabulous cities through which storms of spice bloomed up and dusted away.
And looking at one single label on a jar...
The word was RELISH.
And he was glad he had decided to live.
RELISH! What a special name for the minced pickle sweetly crushed in its white-capped jar. The man who had named it, what a man he must have been. Roaring, stamping around, he must have tromped the joys of the world and jammed them in this jar and writ in a big hand, shouting, RELISH! For its very sound meant rolling in sweet fields with roistering chestnut mares, mouths bearded with grass, plunging your head fathoms deep in trough water so the sea poured cavernously through your head. RELISH!
- from Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury