I shall start with the obvious: a well-larded book shelf. This is a reading/composition corner. Or, more often than not, a "let's put our laundry on daddy's chair" corner for the girls.
This is in the guest room/office. We have several of these crates from the old book store, and if I remember correctly they date back to the 1930s and 40s. Bookstore clerks must have been a muscular breed back then: a crate full of books will weigh close to 100 lbs.
This shelf sits just outside our bedroom. It's the final opportunity for bookish order. Once a book is carried through that door, it will wind up on an enormous pile next to my side of the bed (if it's any good, that is).
If the book won't fit on the little shelf, it can go here, on the other side of the hallway. I believe there's still room for another 50 titles or so.
The dining room, where any mealtime argument you might have can be quickly cross-referenced with a few handy tomes.
And finally a little shelf, just before you leave. I suppose you could store your hat on a shelf like this. But what if, just before you step out the door, you are gripped with the urge to read Cormac McCarthy? No, it's much handier to place his Texas Trilogy, or a spare copy of John Crowley's Little, Big close to the door for just such an occasion.