When I was a young man just out of law school, I bought one of those how-to1 books: How to Get Control of Your Time and Your Life, by Alan Lakein. The book's main point was the necessity of listing life goals, then categorizing2 them in order of their importance, with the A group being the most important, the B group next and the C the last. I still have that paperback3 book, and I remember the A list. I wanted to be a good man, have a good marriage and children, have good friends, make a successful political life and write a great book.
Whether I'm a good man is, of course, for God to judge. I have been graced beyond measure4 by my family life with Hillary and Chelsea. No person I know ever had more or better friends, [and] my life in politics was a joy. As for the great book, who knows? It sure is a good story.
Born William Jefferson Blythe IV, in Hope, Ark, in 1946, Clinton never knew his father, car salesman Bill Blythe, who died after an auto accident three months before he was born． When Clinton was a toddler5, his mother, Virginia, met the man who would become his stepfather Roger Clinton． Only later would Virginia and her young son discover that Roger, who had a fondness for gambling, was also an alcoholic．
Mother and Roger got married in Hot Springs in June, 1950. Not long afterward, I started calling myself Billy Clinton. Roger really loved me and he loved Mother, but he couldn't ever quite break free of6 alcoholism, childish partying, and the verbal abuse of my Mother.
My brother, Roger Cassidy Clinton, was born on July 25, his father's birthday. I was so happy. Mother and Daddy had been trying to have a baby for some time . I think she, and probably he too, thought it might save their marriage. Instead of making him more responsible, the birth of his only son prompted7 him to drink more.
Junior high school brought a whole new set of experiences and challenges, as I began to learn more about my mind, my body, my spirit. Some of what came into my head and life scared the living hell out of me8, including anger at Daddy, I couldn't understand why a God whose existence I couldn't prove would create a world in which so many bad things happened.
Because of the way Daddy behaved when he was angry and drunk, I associated anger with being out of control and I was determined not to lose control. Doing so could unleash9 the deeper, constant anger I kept locked away because I didn't know where it came from. I had real secrets of my own, rooted in Daddy's alcoholism and abuse. They got worse when I was fourteen and in the ninth grade and my brother was only four. One night Daddy closed the door to his bedroom, started screaming at Mother, then began to hit her. Little Roger was scared. Finally I couldn't bear the thought of Mother being hurt and Roger being frightened anymore.
I grabbed a golf club out of my bag and threw open their door. Mother was on the floor and Daddy was standing over her, beating on her. I told him to stop and said that if he didn't, I was going to beat the hell out of him with the golf club. He just caved10, sitting down in a chair next to the bed and hanging his head. Mother said she called the police and had Daddy taken to a jail for the night. I don't remember that, but I do know we didn't have any more trouble for a good while. I suppose I was sad about it, too. I just couldn't accept the fact that a basically good person would try to make his own pain go away by hurting someone else. Clinton＇s interest in politics came at a young age． His involvement in a civic organization called Boys Nation took him to Washington in 1963, where he shook hands with John F． Kennedy at the White House． After graduating from Georgetown University in 1968, and two years in England as a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford, he enrolled at Yale Law School． One day in class, he became intrigued11 by a fellow student．
She had a sense of strength and self-possession12 I had rarely seen in anyone, man or woman. After class I followed her out, intending to introduce myself. When I got a couple of feet from her, I reached out my hand to touch her shoulder, then immediately pulled it back. Somehow I knew that this wasn't another tap on the shoulder and that I might be starting something I couldn't stop.
One night I was standing at one end of the long, narrow library talking to another student when I saw the girl again, standing at the other end of the room. After a while she closed her book, walked the length of the library, looked me in the eye, and said, "If you're going to keep staring back, we ought to at least know each other's names. Mine's Hillary Rodham. What's yours?" I was impressed and so stunned I couldn't say anything for a few seconds. Finally I blurted13 my name out.
A couple of days later, I was coming down the steps to the ground floor of the law school when I saw Hillary again. She was wearing a bright flowered skirt that nearly touched the floor. She said she was going to register14 for next term's classes, so I said I'd go, too. We stood in line and talked. I thought I was doing pretty well until we got to the front of the line. The registrar looked up at me and said, “Bill, what are you doing back here? You registered this morning.” I turned red, and Hillary laughed that big laugh of hers. My cover was blown, so I asked her to take a walk with me to the Yale art gallery to see the Mark Rothko exhibit. It was our first date.
在我还是一个刚从法学院毕业的年轻人时，我买过一些生活指导书，其中有一本是艾伦·拉金写的，名字叫作《如何把握你的时间和生活》。该书的要点在于强调确立各类生活目标的必要性，然后根据重要性对它们进行分类排队：最重要的排在A组，B组次之，最后是C组。我至今保留着那本平装书，而且仍然记得A组所列的条目。我要做一个好人，有美满的婚姻和可爱的孩子，结交要好的朋友，拥有成功的政治生涯以及创作一部伟大的著作。
我是否是个好人，当然只有上帝才能作出裁决。与希拉里和切尔西生活在一起使我感到无比荣耀。我知道没人像我一样拥有这么多、这么好的朋友，而且我的政治生涯也是令人无比愉快的。至于那本伟大的书，谁知道呢？不过它肯定是一个不错的故事。
1946年，克林顿出生在阿肯色州霍普城，出生时名为威廉·杰弗逊·布莱斯四世。他没有见过自己的父亲。他的父亲名叫比尔·布莱斯，是一个汽车推销员，在他出生前三个月的一次车祸中罹难。在克林顿蹒跚学步的时候，他的母亲弗吉尼亚遇上了后来成为他继父的那个男人罗杰·克林顿。只是到了后来，弗吉尼亚和他的儿子才发现罗杰不仅喜欢赌博，而且酗酒。
1950年6月，母亲和罗杰在温泉镇结婚。没过多久，我就称自己为比利·克林顿。说实话，罗杰的确爱我，也很爱我的母亲，但是他却不能摆脱酗酒的毛病、孩子气的聚会胡闹和对母亲谩骂的习惯。
我的弟弟罗杰·卡西迪·克林顿出生在7月25日，这一天正好是他父亲的生日。 我非常高兴。母亲和父亲一直想要一个孩子。我心里想，她，还有他，认为这或许可以挽救他们的婚姻。然而，这孩子的降生并没有使他变得更有责任感，相反却促使他更加沉溺于酒精。
初中生活给我带来了全新的经历和挑战，我进一步了解了自己的思想、身体和内在精神。进入我的大脑和生活的有些东西把我吓个半死，其中就有对父亲的憎恨。我不明白那个我不能证明其存在的上帝为什么要创造这样一个世界，那里天天都有那么多坏事发生。
因为父亲在发火和醉酒时举止粗暴，我把这归结为失去自制，而自己也暗下决心：绝不能失去自制力。一旦失去控制，这种怒气就会释放出来。我把常常袭来却不知缘由的怒气深深地锁在心里，我有些深藏在心里的秘密，它们的真正根源就是父亲的酗酒和打骂。14岁的我还是一名九年级的学生，弟弟还只有4岁，我内心的愤怒越来越强。一天晚上，父亲关上了卧室房门，对母亲大喊大叫，接着开始殴打她。小罗杰吓坏了。终于，想到挨打的母亲和受到惊吓的小罗杰，我再也忍受不了啦。
我从高尔夫球袋里抽出一根高尔夫球棒，撞开他们的房门。母亲躺在地板上，父亲则站着，不停地打她。我要求父亲住手，否则的话，我就要用手中的高尔夫球棒揍扁他。他不得不投降，一屁股坐在床边的椅子上，耷拉着脑袋。母亲后来说她当时报了警，父亲为此在监狱里呆了一个晚上。对此，我已记不清了，但是，我知道，打那以后我们的确好一阵子再也没有麻烦了。我想我对此也的确感到伤感。我无法接受这样的事实：一个本质上还算不坏的人为了消除自己的痛苦而去伤害别人。
克林顿年轻的时候就开始对政治感兴趣。他参加 了一个名为“少年国民”的民间组织，1963年来到了华盛顿，并有幸在白宫与约翰·F·肯尼迪握手。1968年，他从乔治敦大学毕业，接着到英国牛津大学作了两年的“罗兹”访问学者。之后，他又上了耶鲁大学法学院。有一天，在课堂上克林顿对一位同学着了迷。
她有一种力量感，镇定自若，这是我在其他男女身上所难以见到的。下课后，我跟着她走出教室，想向她作自我介绍。与她相距几步之遥，我伸出手想去拍拍她的肩膀，接着立刻又收了回来。不知为何，我知道这不是肩上的轻轻一拍，我可能正在开始一件连我自己都无法阻止的事情。
一天晚上，我站在狭长的图书馆一端与一位同学正在聊天，突然又看到了那个女孩，她站在图书馆的另一端。过了一会儿，她合上书本，走过狭长的图书馆，注视着我，说：“如果你还想继续回头张望，我们至少应该互通一下姓名。我叫希拉里·罗德姆。你叫什么名字？”我砰然心动，也十分惊讶，一时间目瞪口呆，哑口无言。最后，我还是脱口说出了自己的大名。
过了几天，我正沿着法学院的台阶往一楼走，又见到了希拉里。她穿着一条鲜艳的花裙，裙边几乎拖到地板。她说她要去注册下学期的课程，于是，我说我也去。我们站在一起排队，聊天。我觉得一切都是那么自然得体，直到轮到我们注册。教务秘书抬头看着我，说：“比尔，你回来有什么事吗？你不是上午已经注册过了吗！”我的脸顿时红了，而希拉里则发出了只有她才有的那种开怀大笑。借口既然揭穿，我索性邀请她与我一起散步，去耶鲁艺术画廊参观马克·罗思科的画展。这就是我们的第一次约会。
1. how－to （美口）adj． （在手工艺、业余爱好等方面）提供入门知识的；教你怎样做的
2． categorize v． 将…分类， 将…归类
3． paperback adj． 平装的，纸面装订的
4． beyond measure adv． 过分，极度，无可估量
5． toddler n． 学步的儿童（通常指1至2岁半的孩子）
6． break free of 挣脱，（从整体中）强行分离出来
7． prompt v． 促使，推动
8． scare the hell out of sb． 吓坏某人
living hell 更为夸张
9． unleash v． 放开，发出
10． cave v． 屈服，投降
11． intrigue v． 激起好奇心，迷住，使迷惑，使困惑
12． self－possession n． 沉着，镇静，泰然自若
13． blurt v． 脱口而出，冲口而出
14． register v． 注册，登记