Madrid is much more than Villa and Corte; it is a hinge, a hinge, a double key to Spain, a messed up and generous capital, the capital of Pride, a literary genre, a state of mind, a place detested by the goblet and lion busons who come to the smell of the budget. It is the air of the Golden Age, the clouds of Velázquez, the noisiest city, although it was invented by a silent king with a ruff. It went from water borgatta going in the winter of its history to Baden-Baden in summer.Madrid was nailed to history when Alonso de Castillo , a baroque writer, said of her: "A maremagno where all Bajel sails, from the most powerful galleon until the
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