"Actually, we are worrying unduly," said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. "Sharks have a very undeserved reputation as man-eaters. There is not a single authenticated case of a shark attacking anyone, despite what you may have heard. They are sophisticated and peaceful creatures with a rich family life and, far from being ominous harbingers of doom, have reputedly even befriended the occasional lost traveler. As hunters they are of course very efficient, and a full-grown shark can bring down even a moose with...er..."
He looked at their faces.
"Er...I think I might perhaps have got them confused with wolves," he mumbled. "I have, haven't I?"
They nodded, in unison.
"Er...sharks are the other ones, aren't they?" he went on. "The vicious and merciless killers of the sea that don't even stop to chew?"
They nodded again.
"Oh dear. Where can I put my face...?"
"Some distance from a shark," said Ridcully briskly.
Terry Pratchett, The Last Continent
