elle m’était restée aussi invisible que ces objets qui échappent aux perquisitions les plus minutieuses, et qui traînent simplement aux yeux de tous, lesquels ne les remarquent pas, sur une cheminée.

Isn't this translation (this blog) such a thing? Isn't our life, our very being something we don't notice, though not only it is, in front of us, it is us, the very essence, the emanation of ourselves.

By the way, it turns out, the quote above is a reference to Edgar Allan Poe's story, 'The Purloined Letter', which was translated into French by Baudelaire