“ARTHUR: (indicates rain) Couldn't you have peed before we went under?YUSUF: Sorry.The front door OPENS and Eames climbs in, soaked.EAMES: Bit too much free champagne before takeoff, Yusuf?YUSUF: Ha bloody ha.”

“ARTHUR: How do we get out once we've made the plant?(to Cobb)I hope you've got something a little more elegant than shooting me in the head like last time.Arthur tilts back in his chair. Yusuf turns to Cobb.COBB: A kick.ARIADNE: What's a kick?Eames slips his foot under Arthur's chair leg. TIPS it- Arthur's legs SHOOT UP INSTINCTIVELY for balance-EAMES: That, Ariadne, would be a kick.COBB: That feeling of falling which snaps you awake. We use that to jolt ourselves awake once we're done.”

“ARIADNE: Do you use a timer? ARTHUR: No, I have to judge it myself. Once you're all asleep in room 528, I wait 'til Yusuf starts his kick...ARIADNE: How will you know?ARTHUR: His music warns me it's coming, then the van hitting the barrier of the bridge should be unmistakable-that's when I blow the floor out from underneath us and we get a nice synchronized kick. Too soon, and we won't get pulled out; too late and I won't be able to drop us.ARIADNE: Why not?ARTHUR: The van will be in free fall. I can't drop us without gravity.”

“EAMES: There's a man here. Yusuf. He formulates his own versions of the compound.COBB: Let's go see him.EAMES: Once you've lost your tail.(Cobb reacts)Back by the bar, blue tie. Came in about two minutes after we did.COBB: Cobol Engineering?EAMES: They pretty much own Mombasa.Cobb glances over the balcony. COBB: Run interference. We'll meet downstairs in half an hour.EAMES: Back here?COBB: Last place they'd expect.Eames downs his drink. Rises. Walks over to the Businessman.EAMES: Freddy!The Businessman looks up, awkward.EAMES: Freddy Simmonds, it is you!Cobb nonchalantly SLIPS over the balcony DROPPING HARD into the midst of the crowd on the street below.EAMES: (looks harder) Oh. No, it isn't.The Businessman looks past Eames but Cobb has vanished.”

“Later that year, when snow started to hide the front steps, when morning became evening as I sat on the sofa, buried under everything I'd lost, I made a fire and used my laughter for kindling: "Ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha!" "Ha ha ha!”

“We laughed. Ha, ha, we went. Ha, ha, ha. I’m not laughing now. Never has a joke filled me with such nausea and paranoia and insecurity and self-pity and dread and doubt.”