There's a scene in David R. George III et al.'s The 34th Rule that has stuck with me for twenty years. It's a brief passage, about a page, about two-thirds of the way through the book. The Defiant has beamed Quark and Rom aboard from the concentration camp on Bajor. IIRC, they didn't even know that Quark and Rom were there, and they certainly had no idea what the Bajorans were doing to the Ferengi. Sisko talks to Rom, and Sisko makes all sorts of assumptions. He sees the Ferengi in a certain way. And Rom, quivering, terrified, tortured Rom, tells Sisko the truth and breaks through Sisko's arroagance and preconceptions. Sisko had read the Ferengi all wrong for years, he realizes. And so, too, did I realize that I had taken the Ferengi all wrong.
Neil Gaiman wrote, in his introduction to The Swords of Lankhmar, that it's not always wise to revisit a book read long ago. And The 34th Rule was read long ago, on a Greyhound bus, somewhere on the I-95 corridor in the spring of '99. I remember the feelings I had, I remember the sense of Rom's despair, I remember my own moment of epiphany, I remember closing the book, a finger holding my place, as I stared out the window and thought as the highway rolled by. Good books, good scenes, can take you back to a time and place. I may have the scene all wrong in my head, but for me, the emotional meaning I took from the scene is what has stayed with me, which is why I'm hesitant to revisit it.