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“Dom wouldn’t stop telling me the rules for architects,” Ariadne grins, swinging her legs, “so surely there are rules for forgers, too?”
“The only rule, pet, is that there are no rules,” Eames lies. “A forger can be anyone and anything they choose. It’s the whole point.”
Eames didn’t become the best forger by passing out his trade secrets like flyers on the street. There are plenty of rules: don’t bring yourself into your roles. Unless you can speak Russian in your sleep, don’t try to do it in someone else’s dream. If it’s your subconscious, forge as little as possible—they know it’s you. They’ll always know. It doesn’t mean they like you being something you’re not. Always forge sober.
Never forge a person you love, because you have no idea how the rest of the world sees them.
Unlike Cobb, Eames never broke his rules. Until he did.