“I must be allowed to be as I am.”

When I was 15 I became a full-time singer in a band. At 18 I made my first record.

It has always felt like a failure that Bjorn and I couldn’t keep our family together.

When I’m living in the world of luxury and celebrity, which is where I found myself for a large part of my life, it’s a walk-on part.

I can spot empty flattery and know exactly where I stand. In the end it’s really only my own approval or disapproval that means anything.

The reason behind our separation is one of those things I definitely don’t want to go into!

Even when I was still a child I cut out pictures of prams from newspapers and imagined the feeling of pushing my own pram through fresh winter snow and seeing the wheels’ tracks behind me in the snow.

When I record, it feels like I’m in a bubble. There’s nothing else in my head right then.

My life contains so many other things; I have my children, my grandchildren, my two dogs and a big place in the country. I have my own life.

The press has always written that I am a recluse and a mysterious woman, but I am more down-to-earth than they think.

I would like to sing the theme tune of a big film – something like ‘Titanic’.

When you love someone, and you’ve lost that one, then nothing really matters.

My professional persona never loosens its grip, keeping an eye on me at all times.

There was a time when the music fell silent. Both within me and around me.

I have one pug and one Czechoslovakian dog called Prazsky krysarik.

Abba’s last tour was a success but awful for me.

No one who has experienced facing a screaming, boiling, hysterical audience can avoid feeling shivers in the spine. It’s a thin line between celebration and menace.