Marge: You've created something people truly love. You really are an artist.
Homer: No, I'm just a nut who couldn't build a barbecue. You'll always be the artist in this family.
(While at the museum)
Homer: Aw, why does art hate me? I never did anything to art. (notices that his arm is stuck through a painting) Uh, let's get out of here.
Moe: So you guys are Eurotrash, how's that working out for you?
Guenter: To be honest, we are adrift in a sea of decadent luxury and meaningless sex.
Moe: Uh-huh. So where would this sea be located?
Homer: I've always had an interest in art, dating back to my schoolgirl days when I painted portrait after portrait of Ringo Starr.
Marge: That's MY life you're describing!
Homer: This isn't art. It's just a barbecue that pushed me too far. (to the barbecue) Didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?
Astrid Weller: (to Marge about Homer): Your husband's work is what we call "outsider art." It could be by a mental patient, a hillbilly or a chimpanzee.
Homer: In high school, I was voted most likely to be a mental patient, hillbilly or chimpanzee.
Homer: (while building a barbecue pit) Yeah, that's one fine lookin'... (The pieces to the BBQ pit fall in the cement) D'oh! OK, no big deal. (Puts the BBQ pit pieces onto the wheelbarrow, but the bricks and the wheelbarrow fall into the cement too) AAH! Stupid Lisa! Gotta build fast, cement drying. Alright, let's see. Oh, English side ruined, must use French instructions! Le grille? What the hell is that?!?
Homer: Ah, that's one fine lookin' barbecue pit. (puts the box down) WHY DOESN'T MINE LOOK LIKE THAT?! (hits the barbecue pit) WHY?!Why must life be so hard!? Why must I fail at every attempt at masonry!?
Marge: (to Bart) How's your father's project coming along?
Bart: I think he's almost done. (Outside, Homer screams as he's ramming an umbrella into the pit and it opens) Yeah, he's done.
Homer: But Marge, I've screwed up everything I've ever done in my life. I mean, look at Bart.
Marge: (to Homer) You know, Homey, a lot of men use their Saturdays to do things around the house. Hint, hint...
Homer: But Marge, I'm not like other men. That's why you buy my pants at that special store!
Ned: What the flood?! Maude, it's a miracle! The Lord has drowned the wicked and spared the righteous.