Graham: It's the sense of touch.
Ria: ...What?
Graham: Any real city, you walk, you're bumped, brush past people. In L.A., no one touches you...
We're always behind metal and glass. Think we miss that touch so much, we crash into
each other just to feel something.
He looks to the driver, Ria, American-born Hispanic, thirties, heart racing, breathing hard, but watching Graham with real concern. A motorcycle cop appears at her open window.
Motorcyle Cop: You two alright?
Ria: I think he mighta hit his head.
Graham: You don't think that's true?
Motorcyle Cop: Stay in your car.
(Excerpt from motion-picture "Crash"; Story Paul Haggis)
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