We're always trying to avoid being in the darkness, not knowing, and also encountering animals. There's something about them not wanting to be seen; they go out at night, they hide, they don't want to be shown. It's very interesting genetically that they have to hide from us actually. Between themselves, they smell each other, but there is this thing of hiding, of suspicion.

You can feel that something terrible is going on in another place in the world, and it's the other, it's not you. It's always there, it's them. But this them is also you.

I think that the world is in a very serious decline - very, very serious.

I go and film 50 people in Israel, 50 people in Russia, and 50 people in Romania, in Paris, because I really like to get some particles of something real.

I go back to [the idea] that we are avoiding all of these unknowns, we're avoiding the night - most of us - we're avoiding the encounters, but we're also afraid to deal with something unknown, unseen.

The night is there, we're trying to ignore the night, the night was always there as children.

Animals are always goddesses and gods, like the god Anubis. He's the one who's accompanying the souls to the next life, and he's the one who decides if they will be able to cross or not.