Rereading 451, I will always find something new to hold onto. The first time I read this, I burst into tears at the "I am Plato's Republic." I didn't cry this time round, but what struck me more was the patience, faith, and nonviolence of the nomad group. The final scenes reminded me of Neil Gaiman's personal essay "Credo," on how ideas cannot be suppressed or killed, because they are invisible. They also reminded me a BIT of the traveling theatre group in Station Eleven.
I should, of course, be saying that these two texts reminded me of 451. This is true.
I think this story will always hold a place in my heart, will always engagingly whisk me away and forget that I am sitting on a bus, on a couch, at a desk.