I love the one Halloween special where his horoscope says that he’s going to die.
He leaves the house and as he’s backing his car out the driveway, lightning hits a tree and it falls where his car was parked.
Homer: “Missed me! Stupid horoscope!”
Then he’s driving to work and a wrecking ball falls on the passenger side of his car.
Homer: “Haha! Not even close! Stupid horoscope!”
Then he’s tailgating some farmer who’s driving too slow when theygo over a bump and a pickaxe flies out, goes through Homer’s windshield and embeds itself in his forehead.
[Scientist at Screaming Monkey Lab] We don’t play God, Mr. Simpson
[Homer]Pfft…you do nothing BUT play God, and i think your Octo-Parrot would agree…
[Octo-Parrot]Wraak! Polly shouldn’t be!
Homer pontificating to the Austr[del]ia[/del]alian Parliment:
When will you Australians learn? In America we stopped using corporal punishment, and things have never been better! The streets are safe. Old people strut confidently through the darkest alleys. And the weak and nerdy are admired for their computer-programming abilities. So, like us, let your children run wild and free, because, as the old saying goes, “Let your children run wild and free.”
My faves are those quotes – precious in their rarity – where Homer displays unexpected brilliance. E.g., when the Simpsons visited Africa: Their boat goes over a waterfall, they fall out and land safely in a giant flower – which immediately closes up around them.
MARGE: Oh, no! It’s eating us!
HOMER: Don’t panic! I’ll handle this!
[Homer rips open the petals; everybody clambers out]
Homer: Oh, God, why hast thou forsaken me?
Marge: That’s not God, that’s a waffle stuck to the ceiling (pries it off with a broom handle, leaves).
Homer: (Catches waffle, pause) I know I shouldn’t eat thee. (Pause, takes a bite) Mmm… sacrelicious…
Homer: No! The only monster here is the gamblling monster that has enslaved your mother! I call him gamblor, and I will free your mother from his neon clutche!
.
.
.
.
.
Homer: You frabba loamma crabbo dabba!
Marge: Homer! Slow down!
Homer: You…frabba…loamma…crabbo…dabba!
Marge: Can we get rid of this T-Shirt (which reads, Ayatollah Assaholah)? Khomeini died years ago! Homer: But Marge, it works on any Ayatollah! Ayatollah Nakhbadeh, Ayatollah Zahedi… Even as we speak, Ayatollah Razmada and his cadre of fanatics are consolidating their power!
Of course, his encore to this sudden flash of brilliance in foreign politics was to admit that the jacket with “Disco Stu” stitched onto the back was supposed to be “Disco Stud”, but that he ran out of room. (The fact that a real Disco Stu shows up at the yard sale later really killed me too.)
Marge: Homer, do you want our son to grow up to be a Supreme Court justice or a male stripper?
Homer: Why can’t he be both, like the late Earl Warren?
Marge: Earl Warren was not a male stripper!
Homer: Marge, now who’s being naive?
That exchange slays me every time, especially line 2.
