From Darren Shan's Lord Loss, we have the following gem, courtesy of Grubbs' mother in the first chapter:
"How long has he been smoking? That's what I want to know!"
"A few months maybe. But only a couple a day."
"If he says a couple, he means at least five or six," Mum snorts.
"No, I don't!" I shout. "I mean a couple!"
"Don't raise your voice to me!" Mum roars back.
In The Wide Window, the third installment in A Series of Unfortunate Events, Captain Sham says, "There ain't nothin' better than good grammar!" Guess what's so hypocritical about that.
The book of Layer Cake combines this with the Unreliable Narrator idea when the protagonist, a London drug dealer, expresses self-consciousness that himself and his Affably Evil (and Ax-Crazy) associates are perceived by outsiders as dangerous criminals (he thinks of himself as a businessman).
Used for a quick in-joke in the Little House series, written by Laura Ingalls Wilder (paraphrased slightly):
Mary: I am planning to write a book someday. But I also planned to teach school, and you're doing it for me! Perhaps you will write the book!
Laura: I, write a book? I'm going to be an old maid schoolteacher! Write your own book!
One of the Running Gags of James Herriot's semi-autobiographical series of memoirs was his boss Siegfried Farnon's habit of advising James (and others) to take a certain course of action — only to turn around and advise them against it a short time later, or do the exact opposite himself. Sometimes in the same scene. At one point he notes that James has been dillydallying about courting Helen, and bullies James into proposing; after Helen accepts, Farnon promptly berates James for rushing into marriage. The kicker is that when confronted, Siegfried feigns complete amnesia re: the previous conversations, then gently, maddeningly, chides the other for getting so upset. On more than one occasion Herriot describes wanting to hit him when this "saintly look" comes over his face.
In the Young Adult novel Sprout, the eponymous character shares a heartwarming first kiss (In a tree no less) with his best friend, Ty. After they kiss for a few minutes, Sprout makes a comment about homosexuality to which Ty responds by frowning and saying "I'm not gay." Before kissing him again.
Mocked in one of Scott (Dilbert) Adams' parody textbooks, when he points out that someone in a book he read used twelve words, two languages, and two brackets to say "don't be wordy". He goes on to point out that it does sound quite smart, even though someone who spoke that language probably believed you could cure leprosy by eating mud.
It's almost not hypocritical anyway — the way he uses the line implies, "...but now you've forced me to do this."
In Jingo, Sergeant Colon spent the entire book as The Clavin, telling Nobby Little Known Facts about Klatch, the ocean and, at one point, tattoos. When someone else in a crowd started expounding on donkeys and minarets, he muttered "There's always a know-all". Nobby agreed.
In the same book, a conversation between Colon and Nobby about Klatchians relies heavily on this. For example, Colon says "They don't know how to do an honest day's work!" and Nobby points out that Mr. Goriff, the owner of the Klatchian take-away, nearly never closes it. (Colon himself is rather lazy and dim, and would rather "guard" note That's 'guard' as in 'make sure it doesn't escape' rather than 'protect from harm'. a bridge than do anything difficult or dangerous.)
Colon: All this business about lords and kings, it's against basic human dignity. We're all equal. It makes me sick.
Nobby: Never heard you talk like this before, Fred.
Colon: That's Sergeant Colon to you, Nobby.
And he repeats the above line in, again, Jingo, after Vimes has a word with him about calling Goriff a "raghead", and he tells Nobby he's never minded what people call him.
In American Psycho, Patrick Bateman and some other guys are appalled that the only thing their dates can seem to talk about is clothes (furs, specifically), when they talk about much more important things... like business cards.
If she likes me only for my muscles, the heft of my cock, then she's a shallow bitch. But a physically superior, near-perfect-looking shallow bitch, and that can override anything, except maybe bad breath or yellow teeth, either of which is a real deal-breaker.
There is a poem in Russian called The Chatterer, about a girl complaining that someone made it up that she was one, and the truth is, she has no time at all to chatter... over forty lines follow of her explaining why.
Hypocritical one-liners are a staple of Jack Handey's books: "If any man says he hates war more than I do, he better have a knife, that's all I have to say."
The Deadpan Snarker narrator of Pride and Prejudice more than once describes the Grumpy Bear Elizabeth as naturally inclined to be happy. "But it was her business to be satisfied — and certainly her temper to be happy"... less than a page after sharing her philosophy that happiness requires disappointment: "By carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my sister's absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of pleasure realised. A scheme of which every part promises delight can never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by the defence of some little peculiar vexation."
It's not just the narrator either; Mrs. Bennet is very fond of retroactively trying to rewrite history to make it look as if she's always in the right (particularly with regard to prospective / not-so-prospective sons-in-law), which fools no one. Wickham, for his part, takes pains to stress that he takes no pleasure in revealing the 'truth' of his history with Mr. Darcy... while taking every possible opportunity to reiterate the 'truth' of his history with Mr. Darcy.
"Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody, not greatly in fault themselves, to tolerable comfort, and to have done with all the rest." This statement comes from Mansfield Park, her token Darker and Edgier novel that dwells on guilt and misery and denies the heroine tolerable comfort longer than any of her other novels.
Joan Hess uses this a lot in her Maggody comedy/mystery series, most often when locals boast of being the soul of discretion, swearing not to blab some secret they've been entrusted with, then immediately pass it on to a third party.
Brother Verber, whose internal monologue suggests he's honestly convinced his forays to strip clubs and porn theaters are for "research" into potential moral threats, can act out this trope all by himself.
At one point in The Last Camel Died at Noon, Amelia Peabody Emerson pats herself on the back for nagging her husband into a certain course of action. When it goes badly a few pages later, she notes that if he'd listened to her, he would never have taken that course. Apparently, she forgot to edit the relevant portion of her journal.
In Great Expectations, Pip attends a very bad amateur production of Hamlet. At the point where the actor playing Hamlet speaks the line "Don't saw the air thus", a heckler points out that the actor is doing exactly the same thing.
In Catch-22, Chief White Halfoat decries racism thus:
It's a terrible thing to treat a decent Native American like a <string of racial epithets>.
In the Sherlock Holmes story The Man with the Twisted Lip, we learn that Holmes holds people smoking opium in quite a low esteem. Him being a cocaine addict doesn't change this. This was, however, a typical stance back then — cocaine and heroin were OK for upper class if not overdone, while opium was a low man's drug.
The eponymous thousand-year-old Djinni Bartimaeus from The Bartimaeus Trilogy is absolutely prone to this, and he generally sums up his own traits here in his thoughts about his fellow Djinni:
"To be fair, a few of them were all right. Nimshik had a spent a good while in Canaan and had interesting points to make about the local tribal politics; Menes, a youngish djinni, listened attentively to my words of wisdom; even Chosroes grilled a mean imp. But the rest were sorry wastes of essence. Beyzer being boastful, Tivoc sarcastic, and Xoxen full of false modesty, which in my humble opinion are three immediately tiresome traits."
Bartimaeus actually has a bit of a right to be as boastful as he was, however, and for that reason he strikes some as a clever Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass.
Although there are quite a lot who know that he's more of a Chaotic Neutral in practically the purest sense.
See the entry of Brevity Is Wit for the full version of the verse by Shakespeare, which is anything but brief about talking about brevity (then again, when has Shakespeare done anything that wasn't in the form of Sesquipedalian Loquaciousness?). Polonius was supposed to be a dottering windbag, so it's intentional.
In Harry Potter, hypocritical humor tends to follow this format:
"Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," said Hagrid wisely. Behind him, Buckbeak spat a few ferret bones onto Hagrid's pillow.
Lampshaded in the second book: when Ron is rescuing Harry by a magic car, he chastises Harry for (allegedlynote it was actually Dobby) using magic outside school. Harry wryly replies, "bit rich coming from you."
In the very first book, Vernon believes that wizards will be unable to deliver Harry's letter if he nails the mail slot shut because: "'These people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me,' said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him."
Platitude,n. The fundamental element and special glory of popular literature. A thought that snores in words that smoke. The wisdom of a million fools in the diction of a dullard. A fossil sentiment in artificial rock. A moral without the fable. All that is mortal of a departed truth. A demi-tasse of milk-and morality. The Pope's-nose of a featherless peacock. A jelly-fish withering on the shore of the sea of thought. The cackle surviving the egg. A desiccated epigram.
In The Monster at the End of This Book, Grover spends the entire book being afraid of the monster. At the end, after learning that he himself is the monster, he turns around and berates the reader for having been so terrified when there was nothing to be afraid of.
The Wheel of Time does this from time to time, most frequently if Nynaeve is the perspective character, or is being remarked about by another character. Particularly, she tends to complain of people being unreasonably violent, and then propose to hit them until they stop it.
There's an Aesop's fable that uses this to make its point: a mother crab is watching her son scuttling back and forth sideways along the beach, and then scolds him for it, demanding he walk properly back and forth like everyone else. When the son asks her to show him how, she attempts it, and, being a crab, can only walk sideways herself. The actual lesson varies according to the version; most often the mother realizes she's being a hypocrite and the moral is "don't be a hypocrite", or the mother finds some way to justify her sideways walking and the moral is "that which someone despises in others, they are quick to excuse in themselves".
The Great Gatsby: Tom talking about being a superior "Nordic" despite his last name being Buchanan.
Tom again, Up to Eleven, long time after he has cheated Daisy, discovers she could cheat him with Gatsby:
Flushed with his impassioned gibberish he saw himself standing alone on the last barrier of civilization.
In John C. Wright's The Hermetic Millennia, Lady Ivinia talks of how, as a Chimera woman, it is her place to be silent and obey, and how she is meek and gentle, in the same long speech where she effectively orders the men to deal with the enemy they face, and commit suicide if they fail.
In Stephen King's novel Dolores Claiborne, Vera is pretty insistent on not putting the hot baking on the windowsill to cool like 'shanty Irish' would do. Guess which country Vera Donovan's surname comes from?
Paarfi, the Lemony Narrator of the Khaavren Romances, will sometimes note that he wants to be brief and/or doesn't want to waste the reader's time... right in the middle of paragraphs long digressions on things that have nothing to do with the story.