We see which way the stream of time doth run, And are enforced from our most quiet there By the rough torrent of occasion; And have the summary of all our griefs, When time shall serve, to show in articles; Which long ere this we offer’d to the king, And might by no suit gain our audience: When we are wrong’d and would unfold our griefs, We are denied access unto his person Even by those men that most have done us wrong.
There are no more uses of "torrent" in the play.
Show samples from other sources
Don’t let the torrent of melancholy and drear philosophy drown our world.
Ray Bradbury -- Fahrenheit 451
Her words come out in a torrent, as if she’s been hoarding them all for this moment.