God is a little kid with mittens. Or, is God just the mittens? Or are the mittens like angels, you know, the hands of God?
When a snowman's time has come, it is not the Grim Reaper who takes him away, but the Grim Snowplow.
I believe that inside of every snowman there is a little boy, and that when we melt, our little boys leave our bodies and walk inside a house to eat a cup of Campbell soup.