I love love songs. But I love pop music as well: Girls Aloud, Kylie, the Spice Girls, East 17, Mika.
A drunk tongue is an honest one in my opinion.
I don’t rely on my figure to sell records.
I find it quite difficult to think that there’s, you know, about 20 million people listening to my album that I wrote very selfishly to get over a breakup. I didn’t write it being that it’s going to be a hit.
I think it’s shameful when you sell out. It depends what kind of artist you wanna be, but I don’t want my name anywhere near another brand.
There will be no new music until it’s good enough and until I’m ready.
I can’t dance to save my life.
I just want to make music, I don’t want people to talk about me. All I’ve ever wanted to do was sing. I don’t want to be a celebrity. I don’t want to be in people’s faces, you know, constantly on covers of magazine that I haven’t even known I’m on.
You had my heart inside of your hand but you played it to the beat.
I get so nervous on stage I can’t help but talk. I try. I try telling my brain: stop sending words to the mouth. But I get nervous and turn into my grandma. Behind the eyes it’s pure fear. I find it difficult to believe I’m going to be able to deliver.
My voice went recently, never happened before, off like a tap. I had to sit in silence for nine days, chalkboard around my neck. Like an old-school mime. Like a kid in the naughty corner. Like a Victorian mute.
I no longer buy papers or tabloids or magazines or read blogs. I used to. But it was just filling up my day with hatred.
Mum loves me being famous! She is so excited and proud, as she had me so young and couldn’t support me, so I am living her dream, it’s sweeter for both of us. It’s her 40th birthday soon and I’m going to buy her 40 presents.
I want to leave an album behind that is classic, that people in 50 years will refer to and pass on to their children. An album that you never bored of.
I don’t want to be on the cover of Playboy or Vogue.
I don’t care if you’re black, white, short, tall, skinny, rich or poor. If you respect me I’ll respect you.
My aim in life is never to be skinny.
Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavement, even if it leads nowhere?
Nothing that I wouldn’t do, to make you feel my love.
Regrets and mistakes are memories made.