He must look upon the fire, smell of it, warm his hands by it, stare into its heart, or remain forever ignorant. They know that this man will never know reality from their words, though all the words in the world are theirs to use. As they do so, they know from their own experience that what they are telling him is not the truth, but only part of it. So they, in turn, fall back upon telling him what fire is like. If they come upon one who still has not seen it and they speak to him of fire, he does not know what they mean. So they look upon this new thing and they make a new word to call it. They see that, while it is like a poppy, it is not a poppy, while it is like water, it is not water, while it is like the sun, it is not the sun, and while it is like that which eats and passes wastes, it is not that which eats and passes wastes, but something different from each of these apart or all of these together. After a time, fire is as common as grass and clouds and the air they breathe. But fire comes again into the world, many times. They think it is like to anything that they are told it is like by the man who has known it. When the wood is gone, it too is gone.' Therefore, the hearers must think reality is like a poppy, like water, like the sun, like that which eats and excretes. It exists for a time upon a piece of wood, and then the wood is gone, as though it were eaten, leaving behind that which is black and can be sifted like sand. It is warm, like the sun of summer, only warmer. It has no form, like water, flowing everywhere.

He tells them, 'It is red, like a poppy, but through it dance other colors. Perhaps he has seen the very first fire in the world. Others wish to know, however, so the question him saying, 'What is it like, this thing you have seen?' So he tries to tell them. A thing happens once that has never happened before. To speak is to name names, but to speak is not important. “I have many names, and none of them matter.

Lord of light by roger zelazny