The most interesting things, dramatically, are the things we don't understand about ourselves. And what makes great art is not fully understanding such things, knowing such things are infinite, and that to constrain and render them finite is trite. It makes the world small.
Here's to not knowing. And Shakespeare. And his Globe.
OR, as Jonathan Bate puts it in 'The Genius of Shakespeare', discussing Tolstoy's misreading of Shakespeare:
'The demand for sincerity was Tolstoy's error. The genius of King Lear is that it was written by a man who was totally unlike his creation. The poetry of a teenager in love is sincere; that is what makes it bad. The key to dramatic art is Insincerity, i.e., that the author should only pretend keenly to feel what he expresses. That way, he can pretend equally keenly to feel the opposite things which he also expresses. He can infect the spectator with the feeling of what it is like to be Goneril as well as that of what it is like to be Lear.'