He will continue to sit on my shoulder, shouting in my ear when I am anything less than honest with myself
He will continue to act as a conscience to modern architecture
He will continue to be a source of inspiration to all those who make the effort to find out
He will continue to be a thorn in the side of all those trapped by the world of style that they have created for themselves
He will continue to be the architect who transformed architectural thinking from a cottage industry to a socially relevant activity
He will continue to be remembered as an artist
He will continue to be remembered in black and white with a dash of red on the first of May
He will continue to be the soul of architecture that is so often reduced to a series of expedient decisions
He will continue to be a force within the world; his work is not finished. He has provided the concept for so many pieces of architecture realised by others
He will continue to be loved by all those who knew him for not only his intelligence and wit but for his kindness and his humour
May I suggest that we all raise a glass of fine claret and share an Eccles cake, topped with Lancashire cheese, with him today.
Note: memos in the Price office were always black on pink.