The University of the Cloister of Sor Juana (Spanish Universidad de Claustro de Sor Juana) is a private university located in the former San Jerónimo Convent in the historic center of Mexico City. This convent is best known for having been the home of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz for over twenty five years, she produced many of her writings here. After the convent was closed in the 19th century, the large complex was divided and was home to a number of institutions and business, including a large dance hall in the mid 20th century. In the 1970s, the government expropriated the complex, explored it and began the restoration process. In 1979, the current university was founded at this site and it is currently the benefactor and guardian of the complex. The institution offers bachelors, two masters and two certificates, mostly in the humanities. The institution also sponsors or co-sponsors a number of cultural and educational activities, mostly situated in the historic center of the city.
Read more about University Of The Cloister Of Sor Juana: The Cloister Complex, The Educational Institution
Famous quotes containing the words university of, university and/or cloister:
“It is well known, that the best productions of the best human intellects, are generally regarded by those intellects as mere immature freshman exercises, wholly worthless in themselves, except as initiatives for entering the great University of God after death.”
—Herman Melville (1819–1891)
“To get a man soundly saved it is not enough to put on him a pair of new breeches, to give him regular work, or even to give him a University education. These things are all outside a man, and if the inside remains unchanged you have wasted your labour. You must in some way or other graft upon the man’s nature a new nature, which has in it the element of the Divine.”
—William Booth (1829–1912)
“Whether, if you yield not to your father’s choice,
You can endure the livery of a nun,
For aye to be in shady cloister mewed,
To live a barren sister all your life,
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
Thrice blessed they that master so their blood
To undergo such maiden pilgrimage.”
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616)