Long Island University C. W. Post Campus
cwpost.liu.edu/cwis/cwp/
File:Liu post logo.jpgLIU Post (formerly named C.W. Post Campus of Long Island University and often referred to as C.W. Post) is a private institution of higher education located in Brookville in Nassau County, New York, United States. It is the largest campus of the private Long Island University system.
The campus is named after breakfast cereal inventor Charles William Post, father of Marjorie Merriweather Post, who sold the property to LIU in 1951 for $200,000 ($1,790,769 today). Three years after it acquired the property, LIU renamed it in honor of Post's father.
Read more about Long Island University C. W. Post Campus: History, Campus, Residence Life, Academics, Rebranding Campaign, Accreditations, Rankings, Student Life, Athletics, Notable Faculty, Notable Alumni
Famous quotes containing the words long, island, university and/or post:
“To be shelterless and alone in the open country, hearing the wind moan and watching for day through the whole long weary night; to listen to the falling rain, and crouch for warmth beneath the lee of some old barn or rick, or in the hollow of a tree; are dismal things—but not so dismal as the wandering up and down where shelter is, and beds and sleepers are by thousands; a houseless rejected creature.”
—Charles Dickens (1812–1870)
“Your kind doesn’t just kill men. You murder their spirits, you strangle their last breath of hope and freedom, so that you, the chosen few, can rule your slaves in ease and luxury. You’re a sadist just like the others, Heiser, with no resource but violence and no feeling but fear, the kind you’re feeling now. You’re drowning, Heiser, drowning in the ocean of blood around this barren little island you call the New Order.”
—Curtis Siodmak (1902–1988)
“The university must be retrospective. The gale that gives direction to the vanes on all its towers blows out of antiquity.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)
“My business is stanching blood and feeding fainting men; my post the open field between the bullet and the hospital. I sometimes discuss the application of a compress or a wisp of hay under a broken limb, but not the bearing and merits of a political movement. I make gruel—not speeches; I write letters home for wounded soldiers, not political addresses.”
—Clara Barton (1821–1912)