Every time I ask questions about sex, I always end up asking questions about death.

In most of my photographic pieces I have manipulated the quality of the evidence that people assign to photography, in order to subvert it, or to show that photography lies - that what it conveys is not reality but a set of cultural codes.

Every time I ask questions about sex, I always end up asking questions about death.

The photo replaces the memory. When someone dies, after a while you can't visualize them anymore, you only remember them through their pictures.

I like looking at the finger of God. Why it takes one and not another, why this one or that one, why now or why then. The finger of God is always on us. When you get older and you see your friends dying around you, you say "Why not me?" That machine is always there.

The fact that you were born means that there are no other children born because of you – you’ve killed them in a way.

We all die twice - once when we actually die and once when no one on earth recognizes our photograph.