I love love songs. But I love pop music as well: Girls Aloud, Kylie, the Spice Girls, East 17, Mika.
I love a card. You know, cards? At birthdays? I collect them.
I don’t want to be some skinny mini with my tits out. I really don’t want to do it and I don’t want people confusing what it is that I’m about.
In my hometown memories are fresh.
I mean, the thought of someone spending $20 to come and see me and saying ‘Oh, I prefer the record and she’s completely shattered the illusion’ really upsets me. It’s such a big deal that people come give me their time.
I know you haven’t made your mind up yet But I would never do you wrong I’ve known it from the moment that we met No doubt in my mind where you belong.
Sometimes my songs wander off a bit and are not always coherent.
Americans are always mortified when I tell them this, but in England, it’s a tradition to put your plaques and photographs and awards and gold records and stuff in your bathroom. I don’t know why.
Sometimes with pop music, you have to see it to love it. With soul music, it’s sparse. There’s nothing that’s pretentious or planned. It’s just so gutsy.
Beauty comes from within, not from what you wear.
I think no matter what you look like, the key is to first of all be happy with yourself. And then you know if you want to try to improve things that you don’t like about yourself, then do it after your appreciate yourself.
I’m not on good terms with any of my exes. That’s why we’re not together anymore. We’re not friends.
For people to link my music to their lives, it’s incredible, there’s no other feeling like it.
It’s strange how so much life can be lived without speaking.
Sister Maria Martinez whom I believe I’ve mentioned before has been giving me cooking classes. Today I learned how to bake mean banana bread. The secret apparently is half a cup of dark rum.
When we acknowledge a child’s feelings, we do him a great service. We put him in touch with his inner reality. And once he’s clear about that reality, he gathers the strength to begin to cope.
When we give children advice or instant solutions, we deprive them of the experience that comes from wrestling with their own problems.
I was a wonderful parent before I had children. I was an expert on why everyone else was having problems with theirs. Then I had three of my own.
I was a wonderful parent before I had children.
The past is for learning from and letting go. You can’t revisit it. It vanishes.
I’m beginning to grow into who I thought I might be.